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Will  Newton 


The  Young  Volunteer, 


BY  T.  GERRISH, 

Author  of  ''Reminiscences  of   The  War,'*  The  Blue  and 

The  Gray,'^  etc. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


BAXOOR,  ME. 
O.  F.  KXOWLES  &  CO.,  PRIXTERS, 

1884. 


DEDICATION. 

To    THE     SOXS    OF    THOSE    NoBLE    PATRIOTS    WHO 
FOUGHT  IN  DEFENSE  OF  THE  UnION  IN  THE 

LATE  Civil  War 

THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME  IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 


The  writer  has  no  apology  to  ofler  in  presenting 
this  book  to  the  public.  No  attempt  has  been  made 
to  display  literary  style.  We  have  had  no  desire  to 
make  the  actors  and  events  of  the  Civil  War  more 
interesting  by  painting  them  in  the  colors  of  fiction. 
It  has  been  our  design  to  give  a  truthful  descrip- 
tion of  a  soldier's  life  as  it  was  seen  by  thousands 
of  the  "Boys  in  Blue."  And  while  the  names  of 
its  principal  actors  are  fictitious,  the  characters  in- 
troduced and  the  events  described  will  be  readily 
recognized  by  all  survivors  of  the  Union  army.  We 
trust  that  all  our  readers  may  derive  an  inspiration 
for  good  from  the  character  and  example  of  "Will 
Newton,  The  Young  Volunteer." 


Table  of  Contents. 


Chapter  I Page     13 

Chapter  II    "  32 

Chapter  III ' '  55 

Chapter  IV "  77 

Chapter  V "  93 

Chapter  VI "  in 

Chapter  VII "  1 24 

Chapter  VIII "  141 

Chapter  JX "  15S 

Chapter  X "  171 

Chapter  XI "  1S5 

Chapter  XII    "  202 

Chapter  XIII "  222 

Chapter  XIV * "  238 

Chapter  XV "  251 

Chapter  XVI ...  "  262 

Chapter  XVII "  280 


List  of  Illustrations. 


A  Cavalry  Engagement  on  the  Rappahanock. 

Battle  of  Bull  Run, — July  21,  1861. 

Battle  of  Williamsburg. 

Building  Breastworks  near  Richmond. 

Camp  Life. 

Crossing  the  Potomac  River  at  Harper's  Ferry. 

Charge  of  Captain    Newton's  Regiment  at  Fred- 

ericksburof. 
General  Meade's  Head-quarters  at  Gettysburg. 
President  Lincoln  Reviewing  the  Army. 
Raiding  in  a  Snow  Storm. 
Scenes  near  the  Battle  Field  of  Fair  Oaks. 
Tlie  Explosion  of  a  Shell  at  Antietam. 


CHAPTER    I. 

It  was  a  beautiful  Sabbath  morning  in   the  month 

of  May,  1861.      The  deep  heavy  tones  of  the  church 

bell    had    warned    the    citizens    of    the    little    New 

England   village     of    Maplewood,    that  it  was  the 

hour  for  public  worship  ;  and  in  obedience  to  such 

summons,    the    worshipers    came  forth  from   their 

homes  in  picturesque  groups.      The  aged  members 

of  the  flock  walked   slowly,   as  if  meditating  upon 

the  goodness  of  God.     The  middle-aged  appeared 

to  understand   that  the  great  respo;isibilities  of  the 

present  rested  upon  them.     Young  men  and  maidens 

came  forth  in  all  the  gaietv  of  youth,  exchanging 

many    words  of  pleasantry  as    thev  passed  along ; 

the  children,  too,  came  in  little  groups,  looking  for 

the  blossoms  of  spring  and  rejoicing  in  the    clear 

warm  sunshine.      People  were   also    coming   from 

surrounding  farms  ;  teams  of  almost  every  variety 

and    description,    conveying  entire  family  groups, 

were  being  drawn  up  in  front  of  the    white    church 
3 


14  Will  Newton^ 

edifice.  It  was  something  unusual  to  see  so  large 
a  congregation  gathering  in  Maplewood,  and  a 
stranger  would  have  had  but  little  difficulty  in 
discovering  that  some  event  of  great  and  universal 
interest  had  occurred  within  that  quiet  village. 

He  would  have  detected  it  in  the  solemn  words 
spoken  by  the  older  people,  as  well  as  by  the  more 
excited  remarks  of  the  younger,  and  also  by  the 
children  anxiousl}-  looking  in  every  direction,  as  if 
expecting  to  see  some  strange  personage.  The 
good  pastor  of  the  flock,  he  who  had  faithfully 
ministered  to  its  spiritual  wants  for  more  than  two- 
score  years,  seemed  this  morning  to  have  forgotten 
the  infirmities  of  his  sevent}^  winters,  and  walked 
towards  the  church  with  a  vigor  unknown  for 
years. 

The  house  was  rapidly  filling  with  people,  and 
while  they  are  taking  seats  in  the  straight,  high- 
backed,  old-fashioned  pews  in  which  former  genera- 
tions had  sat  and  worshiped,  we  will  for  a  moment 
look  at  a  youthful  personage,  one  not  yet  observed 
by  worshiper  or  scribe. 

He  was  standing  in  the  old  church-yard  in  the 
rear  of  the  church  edifice,  almost  concealed  from 
view  by  a  clump  of  small  evergreen  trees,  which 


The   Toung    V^olunteer.  15 

threw  their  branches  out  as  a  friendly  screen  towards 
two  grass-covered  graves.  Two  white  head-stones 
were  standing  beside  these  mounds,  bearing  on  one 
side  the  names  and  ages  of  the  deceased,  and  upon 
the  other,  the  words, — Father — Mother.  That  pale, 
slender  youth,  some  sixteen  years  of  age,  is  Will 
Newton,  the  only  child  of  the  deceased  parents. 
This  spot  had  been  frequently  visited  by  him, 
although  he  could  but  indistinctly  remember  either 
of  them. 

There  was  nothing  remarkable  in  his  appearance. 
His  countenance  was  fair,  with  blue  eyes  and  dark 
brown  hair,  which  although  closely  cut,  did  nut 
prevent  it  from  lying  in  curls  upon  his  well  formed 
head.  The  only  thing  about  him  that  would  attract 
special  attention,  was  in  his  dress  ;  for  he  wore  a 
suit  of  dark  blue  clothes,  the  uniform  of  a  private 
soldier  in  the  United  States  Army. 

Will  Newton  had  been  so  deeply  absorbed  in  his 
own  thoughts,  that  he  had  not  observed  the  gather- 
ing congregation  in  the  church  not  far  off,  but  as 
the  last  stroke  of  the  great  bell  sent  forth  its  final 
warning  from  the  tower,  he  aroused  himself  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  the  church.  He  evidently 
was  not  aware  that  he  was  to  be  an  object  of  interest 


1 6  Will  Newton^ 

with  his  old  friends,  and  looked  somewhat  surprised 
when  as  he  entered  the  church,  every  eye  was 
turned  upon  him,  and  a  loud  whisper, — "There  he 
is, — There  he  is,"  ran  around  the  circle  of  the  more 
youthful  worshipers. 

He  took  his  seat  In  an  obscure  corner  of  the 
church  near  the  door,  but  the  excitement  did  not 
subside.  The  choir  and  congregation  came  very 
near  breaking  down  w hile  singing  the  old  familiar 
-hymn, — "A  charge  to  keep  I  have," — but  they 
soon  rallied  and  went  throug^h  the  remainder  of  the 
hymn  with  skill  and  great  energy.  The  accustomed 
quiet  was  ere  long  restored,  but  the  presence  of  the 
youthful  soldier  had  affected  all  the  exercises  of  the 
occasion. 

The  pastor  announced  as  his  subject  for  the 
morning  discourse,  the  old  thrilling  narrative  of 
David  the  Shepherd  boy,  who.  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  went  forth  to  battle  w4th  Goliah, 
and  while  this  subject  is  being  presented  to  the 
good  people  of  Maplew^ood,  wx  will  for  a  moment 
sketch  the  life  of  the  young  man  whose  presence 
has  created  so  much  interest  among  the  congrega- 
tion. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  \h 

Twenty  years  before  the  date  at  which  our  story 
opens,    William  Newton   and  his  young  w4fe  had 
purchased  a  little  farm  near  the  village  of  Maple- 
wood,  where  for  six  years  they  had  lived  together 
in  almost  unbroken  bliss.     Before  the  expiration  of 
those  six  years  however,  a  dark  cloud  had  gathered 
over  their  home.     Mr.  Newton  became  the  victim 
of  consumption,  and  after  struggling  manfully  with 
the  disease  for  two  years,  he  died  leaving  a  heart- 
broken wife  and  a  son,  the  latter  not  quite  two  years 
of  age.     The  grass  had   barely  had  time  to  cover 
the  grave  of  the    husband    and  father,    before   the 
remains  of  the  wife  and  mother  were  placed  beside 
it,  and  Will  Newton,  only  three  years  of  age,  was 
left  alone  in  the  world. 

To  settle  up  the  estate,  a  distant  relative  of  the 
family  living  in  an  adjoining  State  came  to  Maple- 
wood.  The  little  farm  was  sold,  the  debts  paid, 
and  little  Will  was  taken  with  the  few  remaining 
dollars  of  his  father's  estate,  to  reside  at  the  home 
of  the  relative.  Seven  years  passed,  and  then  the 
boy  who,  during  these  years,  had  not  been  seen  by 
any  of  the  villagers  at  Maplewood,  came  back  to 
his  native  village.  He  was  kindly  welcomed  by 
"those  who  had  known  his  parents,  and  soon  became 


1 8  Will  Newton^ 

a  favorite  among  all  the  young  people  in  the  com- 
munity. His  time  during  the  next  six  years  was 
divided  between  working  for  the  farmers  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  attending  the  village  school, 
where  by  close  application  to  his  studies  he  had 
become  an  excellent  scholar.  A  few  days  prior  to 
the  morning  on  which  our  story  opens,  he  had 
journeyed  to  the  city  of  D. — ,  twenty  miles  away, 
and  had  there  enlisted  in  the  United  States  Volun- 
teer Service  for  three  years.  Good  reason  why  the 
congregation  at  Maple  wood  should  be  interested, 
for  in  their  midst  was  the  first 'man  to  enlist  in  the 
Civil  War  from  their  town,  and  the  first  soldier  in 
a  uniform  that  many  of  the  people  had  ever  seen. 

The  sermon  was  closed,  the  doxology  sung,  the 
benediction  pronounced.  The  congregation  pressed 
around  Will  to  say  good-bye,  for  it  had  become 
generally  known  that  he  was  obliged  to  return  to 
the  city  that  afternoon,  as  his  company  was  to  leave 
for  the  seat  of  war  early  on  Monday  morning. 
Young  men  and  women  gave  him  many  kind  words 
of  encouragement,  and  expressed  the  best  wishes 
for  his  safety ;  the  fathers  grasped  his  hand  warmly 
and  spoke  words  of  commendation ;  the  mothers 
looked  upon  the  pale  motherless  boy  with  tearful 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  19 

eyes,  and  prayed  as  only  mothers  can  for  his  safety  ; 
children  joined  in  the  procession  and  looked  with 
genuine  curiosity  upon  the  hero  of  the  occasion. 
The  pastor  gave  words  of  encouragement  and 
Godly  admonition.  Good  deacon  Keene  was  among 
the  last,  and  had  purposely  remained  behind,  so  that 
his  message  would  be  remembered.  He  felt  the 
responsibility  of  the  occasion,  for  was  not  he  senior 
deacon  of  the  church,  and  had  he  not  known  Will's 
father  and  mother,  and  had  not  he  officiated  in 
taking  charge  of  the  exercises  when  they  were 
buried  from  the  church?  So  clearing  his  voice, 
and  bracing  himself  for  this  the  supreme  moment 
and  effort  of  his  life,  he  began  in  a  cold,  harsh  tone 
of  voice, — "Well,  young  man,  I  understand  that 
you  have  enlisted  ;  it  is  a  noble  thing  for  you  to  do  ; 
the  country  is  in  danger  ;  many  men  must  give  up 
their  lives  before  the  unholy  war  ceases  ;  I  am  glad 
to  know  you  are  willing  to  sacrifice  yours ;  we  shall 
always  remember  you  with  pride  ;  and  you  must 
remember  that  it  is  much  more  easy  for  you  to  go 
than  for  other  young  men,  who  would  be  obliged 
to  leave  both  home  and  friends.  Again  I  say  you 
are  giving  your  life  in  a  good  cause." 


20  HV//  N^eucton^ 

The  hot  blood  mounted  to  Will's  temples  at  these 
ill-timed  remarks  ;  and  how  far  the  good  deacon 
would  have  £;-one  on  in  the  same  strain  we  do  not 
know  ;  but  as  he  was  about  to  resume  the  thread  of 
his  discourse,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  bluft',  hearty 
voice,  saying, — -'O  nonsense,  deacon  ;  you  must  be 
sufferins:  ^vith  an  attack  of  the  blues.  Will  Newton 
will  not  die  out  there,  but  will  come  back  to  shame 
us  old  fellows  with  a  memory  of  the  fact  that  he 
w^as  the  first  man  in  all  our  town  to  volunteer  ;  and 
as  for  friends  and  home,  no  young  man  in  all 
Maplew^ood  has  more  friends  than  Will,  and  a  home 
he  shall  have  so  long  as  Jerry  Lamb  has  a  shingle 
above  his  own  liead." 

The  speaker,  a  large  framed,  broad-shouldered 
man,  with  a  full  red  foce  glowing  w^ith  good  humor, 
placed  special  emphasis  upon  the  last  sentence. 
"But  say,"  he  continued,  addressing  the  young  man, 
*'how  do  you  propose  to  reach  the  city,  if  you 
must  be  there  to-day." — "I  shall  probably  walk 
sir,"  replied  Will.  "That  is  right,"  chimed  in  good 
deacon  Keene  who  had  not  yet  retired  from  the 
field.  "Walk, — that  w^ill  be  good  exercise  and  by  it 
you  will  get  accustomed  to  the  long  marches  you 
will   have  to  make."     Castinof  a  withering'  look  of 


The   Young    Volunteer.  21 

contempt  at  the  worthy  speaker,  fanner  Jerry  Lamb 
blm'ted  out, — "No  ;  you  shan't  walk.  Come  home 
with  me  to  dinner,  and  I  will  carry  you  out  this 
afternoon  with  my  horse,"  and  while  thus  speaking, 
he  hurried  him  from  the  house  to  his  family  carriage 
in  which  sat  Mrs.  Lamb,  Miss  Lamb,  a  charming 
girl  of  sixteen  years,  with  Tom  and  Dick,  her 
younger  brothers,  aged  respectively  ten  and  twelve 
years. 

Jerry  Lamb  w^as  considered  one  of  the  most 
wealthy  and  influential  farmers  in  the  town  of 
Maplewood,  and  as  he  drove  to  his  beautiful  home 
on  this  occasion,  he  muttered  to  himself  and  yet 
loud  enough  for  the  other  occupants  of  the  carriage 
to  hear  him,  "that  old  deacon  Keene  is  enough  to 
kill  any  one.  The  truth  is  he  does  not  know  any- 
thing ;  and  yet  I  believe  that  his  knowledge  exceeds- 
his  religion.  I  don't  profess  to  be  a  Christian,  but 
I  do  like  to  see  people  a  little  human-like,  and  have 
some  regard  for  the  feelings  of  their  fellow-sinners. 
I  vow  I  felt  like  choking  the  old  fellovs^  right  there 
in  the  presence  of  the  parson."  And  thus  he  mut- 
tered on  until  the  farm  w^as  reached. 

The  substantial  New  England  dinner  was  soon 
disposed  of: — The   fastest  horse  was  harnessed  to 


22  Wi7l  Newton^ 

the  new  buggy  ;  affectionate  good-byes  were  said ; 
Mr.  Lamb  and  Will  took  seats  in  the  carriage  and 
drove  rapidly  in  the  direction  of  D — 

The  city  was  reached  before  night-fall,  and  within 
a  large  field  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  Will 
pointed  out  to  Mr.  Lamb  a  large  tent,  with  two  or 
three  smaller  ones  near  at  hand,  where  his  company 
was  encamped,  waiting  for  the  morning  train  to 
bear  them  to  Washington,  and  to  War.  "Now 
Will,"  exclaimed  Jerry  Lamb,  as  the  boy  alighted 
from  the  carriage,  "if  ever  you  are  in  trouble,  and 
want  assistance  of  any  kind,  call  on  me.  I  shall 
expect  you  to  write  to  us  each  week  :"  and  without 
stopping  to  hear  Weill's  thanks  of  gratitude,  he 
shook  his  hand,  and  leaving  there  a  roll  of  bank 
bills,  turned  his  horse  and  drove  in  the  direction  of 
Maple  wood. 

Will  stood  with  tearful  eyes  looking  at  his  kind 
hearted  benefactor,  until  man,  horse  and  carriage 
were  concealed  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  then  walked 
slowly  in  the  direction  of  his  company.  He  passed 
through  the  line  of  sentinals,  displaying  the  pass  or 
leave  of  absence  which  his  captain  had  given  him, 
and  reported  immediately  at  the  tent  of  that  officer. 
"I  am  glad  to  see  you  promptly  on  time"  said  the 


The   Toung    Volunteei'.  23 

captain,  "for  we  are  to  leave  in  the  morning.  Go 
down  to  the  great  tent  now,  and  get  a  good  night's 
rest." 

Will  obeyed,  and  a  strange  spectacle  was  presented 
to  him  as  he  entered  the  huge  canvas  tent.  There 
were  a  hundred  men  within  its  ample  walls 
employed  in  a  great  variety  of  pursuits.  Some 
were  sleeping,  others  were  writing  letters,  reading 
papers,  eating  supper,  telling  stories,  playing  cards 
and  other  games ;  while  a  group  of  half  a  dozen 
young  roughs  were  swearing,  laughing,  and  creat- 
ing a  general  disturbance.  Young  Newton  passed 
along  as  quietly  as  possible,  and  anxious  to  escape 
observation,  he  went  to  a  vacant  corner  and  threw 
himself  upon  the  ground.  The  young  roughs 
however,  soon  discovered  him,  and  decided  that  he 
was  a  good  subject  for  their  sport. 

He  was  soon  surrounded  and  plied  with  all  kinds 
of  insulting  questions  and  remarks,  to  all  of  which, 
Will  replied  with  dignified  good  nature.  But  that 
did  not  satisfy  his  tormentors,  and  the  leader  of  the 
gang  soon  proceeded  to  acts  of  personal  violence. 
Will  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  demanded  that  they 
should  desist.     They  greeted  this  demand  with   a 


24  Will  NezL'tofi^ 

loud  shout  of  derision,  and  instantly  forming  a  ring, 
cried  lustily,— '^a  fight,"— ''a  fight,"— "a  fight." 

The  young  rufiian  who  w^as  evidently  the  ac- 
knowledged  leader  of  the  band,  ^vas  a  great,  burly 
fellow,  and  looked  upon  his  slim  antagonist  for  a 
moment  with  a  smile  of  derision  ;  then  advancing 
brought  his  open  hand  across  Will's  face  \^ath  a 
ringing  blow.  This  was  hailed  with  a  howl  of 
delight  by  his  allies  ;  but  their  joy  was  of  brief 
duration.  For  an  instant,  Will  stood  with  the  blood 
flowing  in  a  crimson  torrent  from  his  nostrils  ;  then 
something  flashed  out  from  his  shoulder,  and  his 
right  hand,  clenched  solid  like  a  hammer,  rang  with 
a  loud  report  upon  the  ear  of  his  antagonist,  who 
fell  as  if  dead  at  his  feet. 

For  a  moment  not  a  w'ord  was  spoken  b}^  the 
fifty  men  who  were  spectators  of  the  scene.  The 
friends  of  the  fallen  ruffian  rushed  towards  Will 
Avho  stood  like  a  lion  at  bay,  crying, — "Knock  him 
down — shoot  him — kill  him."  In  that  moment  of 
peril,  the  pale  slender  lad  seem.ed  transformed  to  a 
veteran.  What  the  result  would  have  been,  we 
shall  never  know,  for  as  they  were  thus  rushing  upon 
their  foe,  a  man  who  had  been  a  witness  of  the 
whole    affair  from    its  beginning,    sprang  to   Will's 


The    Tou7ig    Vohinteer,  25 

side  and  shouted, — "Luft'  off  there  ye  lubbers,  or  I 
will  sink  every  mother's  son  of  you  ;  this  chap  is 
all  right, — I  was  mighty  glad  to  see  him  send  that 
young  pirate  there  gasping  on  his  beam  ends  ;  and 
now  if  any  ol  you  want  satisfaction,  call  on  me. 
My  name  is  Bill  Logan,  I  have  followed  the  sea  for 
thirty  years,  went  round  this  globe  before  you  lub- 
bers were  born,  and  if  you  are  spoiling  for  a  fight, 
I  can  take  any  six  of  you  at  once,  and  then  not  have 
cargo  enough  to  make  me  a  good  ballast ;  but  if 
one  of  you  puts  his  dirty  lingers  on  this  boy  I  will 
know  the  reason  why  ;  and  he  had  better  say  his 
prayers  before  he  undertakes  the  job." 

Just  at  this  moment,  the  captain  broke  through 
the  ring,  and  in  angry  tones  demanded,  "Who  is 
the  cause  of  all  this  trouble?"  •'  'Twas  him,  sir," 
quickly  said  the  crest-fallen  friends  of  the  fallen  ruf- 
fian, pointing  to  young  Newton.  "Every  thing 
w^as  all  right  until  he  came  in  here  putting  on  airs 
and  insulting:  folks  bv  knocking  them  down."  The 
accused  young  man  was  about  to  indignantly  reply  ; 
but  the  angry  officer  interrupted  by  saying, — 
"Silence,  sir  ;  and  this  is  in  payment  for  the  kind- 
ness I  have  shown  you !  Here  guard,  take  this- 
fellow  to  the  guard  tent  and  watch  him  closely  until 


26  Will  Newton^ 

to-morrow  morning,"  and  a  moment  later,  Will  was 
hurried  away  by  the  guard  to  his  place  of  confine- 
ment. 

The  captain  returned  to  his  quarters.  The  guilty 
roughs  were  exulting  over  the  success  of  their  base 
falsehood.  Bill  Logan,  the  champion  of  Will 
Newton,  stood  alone  as  if  dum-founded  by  the 
events  which  had  so  rapidly  transpired  around 
him. 

The  latter  personage,  as  he  has  already  stated,  had 
been  a  seaman,  and  had  followed  the  roving  life  of 
a  sailor  for  thirty  years.  Although  at  this  time  he 
was  but  little  over  forty  years  of  age,  short  in 
stature,  fleshy,  with  a  full  round  face,  broad  shoul- 
ders, which  were  a  little  stooped,  and  limbs  of 
gigantic  size.  His  gait,  w^as  that  so  peculiar  to  sea- 
faring men,  whether  on  sea  or  land.  At  heart  he 
w'as  as  kind  as  a  w^oman,  but  as  fearless  as  a  lion. 
He  had  visited  nearly  every  large  city  in  the  world, 
and  had  encountered  humanity  in  its  lowest  condi- 
tions. He  had  been  involved  in  many  desperate 
struggles  before  he  stood  forth  in  defense  of  young 
Newton,  w^hom  he  had  beheld  on  this  occasion  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life. 


The   Young    Volunteer,  27 

Lopan  had  accidentally  drifted  to  the  citv  of  D — 
and  having  become  weary  of  a  sailor's  life  had,  on 
the  preceding  day.  enlisted  in  the  United  States 
service.  He  had  been  employed  all  day  on  Sun- 
day in  endeavoring  to  become  accustomed  to  his 
uniform,  which  he  stjled  the  "blue  toggerv  put  on 
him  by  Uncle  Sam." 

As  the  captain  disappeared.  Bill  muttered,  "Well 
I'll  be  bio  wed  if  I  ever  saw  any  thing  like  that.  I 
have  heard  of  being  tried  without  Judge  or  Jury, 
but  this  beats  all.  I'll  just  work  up  before  the  wind 
to  the  old  man's  quarters  and  give  him  a  salute." 
And  in  genuine  sailor  foshion.  he  gave  his  blue 
pants  an  extra  hitch,  and  proceeded  to  roll  along 
the  path  leading  to  the  captain's  tent.  Fortunately 
for  our  friend,  the  canvas  door  of  the  tent  was  open, 
so  that  when  he  was  within  half  a  dozen  feet  of  the 
tent,  he  saw  the  captain  with  a  number  of  officers 
within.  When  Bill  saw  this,  to  use  his  own 
language,  "he  came  immediately  up  before  the 
wind."  ana  nutting  his  cap  under  his  arm  sang  out, 
"A  hoy  theie.  sir!"  And  without  waiting;  for  his 
challenge  to  be  answered,  he  "let  go,"  and  stood 
within  the  door- way. 


28  Will  Neu-ton^ 

As  the  astonished  officers  looked  up  to  see  who 
the  intruder  was,  he  began,  ''Look  here,  old  man, 
I  don't  know  much  about  your  military  lingo,  but  I 
am  a  chap  who  has  seen  knock-downs  enough  to 
know  what  fair  plav  is,  and  to  know  the  difterence 
between  a  neat,  nice,  twig  little  sloop  of  war  mind- 
ing its  own  business,  and  a  great,  over  grown,  double 
decked  son  of  a    g^un  what  fires    on  every    thino;-  he 


sees." 


''Explain  what  you  mean,  sir  !"  said  the   captain. 

'•Just  what  I  came  for,  old  man,"  replied  Bill. — 
''that  little  craft  that  you  have  just  towed  away  in 
disgrace,  is  all  right.  He  sailed  in  just  like  a 
gentleman,  and  dropt  his  anchor,  with  a  friendly 
salute  for  everyone,  and  those  young  pirates  tackled 
him.  He  knocked  the  leader  stern  foremost  quicker 
than  you  could  splice  a  main  brace  :  and  if  you  had 
not  hove  in  sight  just  as  you  did.  the  wliole  fleet  of 
them  would  have  gone  to  Davy  Jones  Locker 
together.  I  tell  you,  old  man,  that  lad  has  got  the 
metal  in  him.  It  would  ha\e  done  you  good  to  see 
the  shot  he  let  fly  from  that  starboard  gun  of  his. 
The  other  fellow  struck  his  colors  in  a  minute  ;  and 
when  the  whole  crowd  got  out  their  grappling  irons 
to  board  him,  he  faced  the  fire  first-class.     He  has 


The    Toung    V^olunteer.  29 

got  grit  in  him,  old  man,  and  my  advise  is,  give  hini 
fair  play."  And  rolling  the  quid  of  tobacco  in  his 
mouth  with  renewed  energy,  Bill  Logan  returned 
to  the  tent,  where  the  scowls  of  the  ruffians  were 
showered  upon  him. 

As  he  unrolled  his  blankets,  and  prepared  to 
camp  down  for  the  night,  he  gave  them  his  parting 
salutation  in  this  manner:  ''You  understand  that 
my  offer  is  a  standing  one.  I  am  not  in  the  habit 
of  flogging  children,  but  if  you  want  to  try  me  at 
any  time,  I  am  ready  for  any  six  of  you  at  the  same 
time." 

Will  Newton  was  in  the  tent  that  served  as  a 
guard  house.  He  was  hungry,  weary  and  excited. 
His  face  and  clothes  were  covered  with  blood  ;  but 
all  these  were  forgotten  by  him  in  his  indignation 
caused  by  the  treatment  he  had  received  from  the 
captain. 

Thus  the  night  passed,  and  at  early  dawn  all  was 
life  and  bustle  around  and  in  the  great  tent.  Before 
breakfast  was  served  to  the  men,  they  were 
ordered  to  form  a  line  in  front  of  the  captain's 
tent.  ^ 

That  officer  referred  briefly  to    the  aflair   of  the 

previous   evening,  and  warned  the    men   that    any 
3 


30  Will  Newton^ 

disobedience  of  orders  on  their  part  would  bring 
severe  punishment  upon  them.  He  then  instructed 
the  guard  to  bring  the  prisoner  from  the  guard 
house. 

Young  Newton's  assailants  were  in  high  glee 
Over  the  humiliation  of  their  opponent.  Bill  Logan 
ground  his  teeth  in  silent  rage.  A  moment  later 
and  the  guard  returned  with  their  prisoner,  but  not 
as  we  saw  him  last.  The  blood  had  been  washed 
from  his  face  and  clothes,  and  as  he  walked  between 
the  sentinels  he  appeared  to  be  cheerful  and 
happy. 

The  captain  took  him  by  the  hand  and  said, 
"Newton,  I  want  to  say  before  these  men,  that  I 
was  misinformed  as  to  the  nature  and  instigators  of 
the  trouble  last  night.  You  were  most  unjustly 
punished.  I  have  since  learned  the  facts  in  the 
case.  You  are  completely  exonerated  from  all 
blame  ;  and  as  a  token  of  my  confidence  in  you,  I 
have  promoted  you  to  be  a  corporal.  As  for  those 
who  assailed  you  last  night,  I  have  only  to  say,  that 
their  conduct  will  be  watched  in  the  future,  and  all 
offenses  will  be  punished.  You  may  now  break 
ranks. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  31 

Will  Newton  was  delighted  to  stand  thus  exoner- 
ated before  his  comrades. 

The  young  ruffians  were  thoroughly  discomfited  ; 
and  Bill  Logan  was  heard  to  mutter, — "Right 
always  prevails  in  the  end."  The  men  were  all 
very  busy.  Three  days  rations  were  to  be  stowed 
away  in  their  haversacks ;  clothing  and  other 
matters  w^ere  to  be  neatly  packed  in  their  knap- 
sacks ;  guns  and  equipments  were  to  be  made  ready 
for  immediate  use. 

Young   Newton  used  great  care  in  packing   his 

knapsack,    and   in   the   safest  place,    he,  with  great 

reverence,  placed  a   small  leathern  bound   copy  of 

the  Scriptures  ;  for  upon   its  fly-leaf  was  written  in 

a   beautiful  hand,    the  maiden  name   of  that   dear 

mother  whom  he  could  only  so  indistinctly  remem- 
ber. 

The  loud  beating  of  the  drums  called  the  men  to 

"fall  in."     The   column   was   quickly  formed  ;  the 

line   of  march    taken    up  for  the    depot,  and   Will 

Newton  was  on  his  way  to  the  seat  of  War. 


CHAPTER    II. 

There  was  much  for  Will  Newton  to  learn.  It 
■was  the  first  time  that  he  had  ever  rode  a  hundred 
miles  from  his  native  village,  save  w4ien  as  a  child 
he  went  to  the  home  of  his  relative.  At  a  junction 
of  the  rail-road,  his  company  joined  the  regiment 
of  which  it  was  to  compose  a  part.  A  thousand 
men  strong,  crowding  the  long  train  of  cars  to 
overflowing,  rushed  madly  on,  across  fields  and 
rivers,  winding  along  hill-sides,  dashing  through 
tunnels,  villages  and  cities,  stopping  only  now  and 
then  to  march  from  one  depot  to  another,  until 
Washington  was  reached. 

It  was  not  the  magnificent  city  of  Washington 
as  it  exists  at  the  present  ^me.  The  beautiful 
streets  and  parks,  the  elegant  mansions,  statues  and 
shade-trees  which  makes  it  now  the  most  wonder- 
ful city  on  the  continent,  were  not  there. 

When  Will  Newton's  regiment  went  marching 
through  it  early  in  June,  1864,  there  was  dirt  and 
disorder  everywhere.      Groups   of  infantry,  squads 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  xa 

of  cavalry,  lines  of  sentinels,  batteries  of  artillery 
were  seen  along  the  streets  and  squares  of  the 
city. 

The  regiment  marched  along  some  of  the  princi- 
pal streets,    then  across  the   Potomac  river  on  the 
long  bridge,  and  halted  upon  the  famous  Arlington 
Heights    in    Virginia.      It   was    night    when  they 
arrived  there,    and  they   received  orders   to  go  into 
camp.     There  were  ten  companies  in  the  regiment, 
each  composed   of  one   hundred   men.     Each  com- 
pany was  encamped  by  itself,  in  two  rows  of  small 
tents,  so   pitched  that  there  was   a  vacant  space   of 
some  twenty  yards  between  the  rows,  which  space 
was  known  as  the  company  street. 

The  small  tents  which  the  men  were  to  occupy 
were  each  large  enough  to  accommodate  four  men. 
The  companies  were  speedily  divided  into  squads 
or  messes  of  four. 

Will  Newton  watched  this  mode  of  division  into 
family  groups  with  a  great  deal  of  interest  and 
curiosity.  He  wondered  who  would  be  willing  to 
■cast  in  their  lot  with  him.  While  he  was  thus 
musing,  he  was  approached  ])y  Bill  Logan,  who 
rolling  his  quid  in  his  mouth,  and  giving  his 
trousers  an  extra  hitch,  remarked,  ''Well,  corporal ; 


34  Will  Newton^ 

providing  you  are  willing,  why  not  we  ship  as  mess- 
mates for  the  voyage.  You  may  have  already 
noticed  that  I  am  not  a  polished  stick  of  timber, 
but  I  believe  in  fair  play,  and  always  stand  by  ready 
to  lend  a  hand  when  a  messmate  is  in  trouble." 

Will  was  of  course  delighted  at  the  prospect  of 
having  his  old  defender  become  his  tent-mate,  and 
by  the  time  their  arrangements  were  made,  the 
squads  were  all  formed,  and  owing  to  the  fact  that 
there  was  not  a  full  hundred  men  in  the  com- 
pany, there  were  none  to  share  their  tent  with  them, 
which  was  a  very  gratifying  fact  to  both. 

It  was  a  new  life  upon  which  Will  Newton  had 
thus  entered  ;  a  life  so  filled  with  strange  events 
and  unique  features,  that  we  must  despair  of  giving 
our  young  readers  a  truthful  picture  of  it.  So 
much  to  learn  that  was  novel  in  its  character,  and 
so  difficult  to  become  familiar  with. 

The  first  night  passed  on  Virginian  soil  was  a 
memorable  one  in  the  life  of  young  Newton.  After 
the  nine  o'clock  tattoo  had  been  sounded,  and 
silence  reigned  supreme  over  the  encampment, 
Will  sat  out  upon  the  hill-side  near  his  tent  to  survey 
the  strange  scene.  It  was  a  most  lovely  view. 
The  atmosphere  was  warm  and  balmy,  a  soft  wind 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  35 

breathed  sweetly  among  the  tents,  the  stars 
twinkled  indolently  from  the  velvety  cheeks  of  the 
sky.  The  moon  shone  languidly,  and  but  dimly 
illuminated  the  scene.  In  the  distance  could  be 
seen  the  domes  and  spires  of  Washington.  Between 
the  city  and  Arlington  Heights  there  was  a  dense 
broad  belt  of  mist  which  hung  suspended  above  the 
sluggish  waters  of  the  Potomac  river.  Along  the 
Heights  of  Arlington  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
long  lines  of  white  tents  appeared  in  which  thou- 
sands of  soldiers  were  sleeping.  There  were  also 
extensive  lines  of  partially  completed  earth-works 
and  forts,  while  sentinels  slowly  marching  along 
their  solitary  beats,  made  up  a  scene  worthy  of  the 
artist's  brush. 

Will  Newton  drank  this  all  in  with  a  keen  relish 
for  a  time,  but  unconsciously  his  mind  wandered 
from  these  war-like  surroundings,  and  went  back  to 
the  little  village  of  Maplewood,  the  churchyard,  the 
groves,  and  all  the  living  friends  whom  he  had  left 
there.  A  strange,  homesick  feeling  came  over  him 
as  he  realized  his  homeless,  friendless  condition.  A 
great  sob  surged  up  from  his  heavy  heart,  and  tears 
ran  like  rain  down  over  his  face.  He  heeded  not 
how  time  was  passing  until  he  was  suddenly  aroused 


36  Will  Nevjioji^ 

by  a  heavy  hand  being  placed  upon  his  shoulder, 
and  the  kind  voice  of  his  tent-mate  was  heard,  say- 
ing, "Come,  come,  my  boy  !  you  must  not  be  home- 
sick ;  you  will  soon  get  used  to  this,  and  then  you 
will  be  all  right." 

Will  entered  the  little  tent,  lay  down  between  the 
army  blankets  and  sobbed  himself  to  sleep. 

When  mornins:  dawned  all  the  indications  of 
homesickness  had  passed  away.  There  was  so  much 
to  see,  to  learn,  and  to  do,  that  there  was  but  little 
time  to  think  about  home  or  friends.  To  become 
.accustomed  to  the  army  rations  was,  of  course,  one 
of  the  first,  and  also  one  of  the  most  difficult 
tasks  that  Will  had  to  accomplish.  It  did  seem 
so  strange  to  him  to  sit  down  upon  the  ground  to 
eat  instead  of  at  a  table,  as  at  home.  And  instead 
of  the  three,  square,  hearty  meals  furnished  on  the 
farm  where  he  had  worked,  there  were  the  nine 
cakes  of  hard  bread  for  each  day's  rations,  a  small 
piece  of  meat,  and  a  tin  cup  filled  with  coffee  dealt 
out  at  each  meal  by  the  company  cook. 

"Not  much  nourishment  or  juice  to  this  hard- 
tack !"  quoth  Bill  Logan  to  his  friend,  as  they  were 
eating  their  first  dinner  on  Arlington  Heights  ;  "but 
we  will  get  used  to  it  after  a  while."      And  so  they 


The   Young    Volunteer.  37 

continued  to  grind  the  hard  cakes  and  drink  the 
black  coffee,  until  even  Will  came  to  regard  these 
almost  as  luxuries. 

There  were  so  many  bugle  calls,  and  so  many 
duties  to  perform,  that  for  a  few  days  young  Newton 
was  completely  confused,  not  knowing  which  came 
first ;  and  when  one  duty  was  done  he  knew  not 
what  would  come  next.  But  he  was  determined  to 
master  the  situation,  and  by  careful  observation  he 
soon  had  the  difficult  matter  all  systemized,  and  a 
complete  programme  of  each  day's  duties  in  his 
mind. 

It  may  be  a  matter  of  some  interest  to  our  read- 
ers to  know  how  the  time  of  our  young  volunteer 
was  occupied.  In  the  morning,  at  sunrise,  there 
was  reveille.  At  this  call,  the  men  formed  a  line 
in  the  company  street,  while  the  orderly  sergeant 
called  a  roll  of  all  the  names  in  the  company.  Those 
present  answering  "here,"  as  their  names  were 
called.  The  absent  were  accounted  for,  and  the  ser- 
geant reported  to  the  captain, who  in  turn  reported  to 
the  adjutant  of  the  regiment,  so  that  the  whereabouts 
of  each  man  in  the  command  was  known  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning.  This  was  followed  by  the 
call  for  breakfast.      After  breakfast  the  men  turned 


38  W/l/  Newton^ 

out  to  police  the  street,  during  which  process  the 
tents  were  put  in  order,  and  all  rubbish  was  removed 
from  the  street  and  around  the  tents.  At  eight 
o'clock  the  bugle  sounded  the  sick-call ;  and  the  sick 
men  in  each  company  who  were  able  to  walk,  under 
the  command  of  a  sergeant,  marched  to  the  sur- 
geons' tents  to  be  examined  and  to  have  their  wants 
supplied.  Those  who  were  unable  to  go  were  vis- 
ited by  the  surgeon  in  their  tents.  At  nine  o'clock 
there  was  guard-mounting,  when  those  detailed  for 
guard  marched  from  their  respective  companies  to 
the  parade  ground  in  front  of  the  colonel's  tent, 
where  they  were  examined  or  inspected  by  the  ser- 
geant major  and  adjutant.  At  ten  o'clock  came  the 
company  drill,  which  was  an  event  of  considerable 
importance  in  the  daily  life  of  the  soldier. 

Oh  !  such  a  drill !  marching  and  countermarching, 
moving  by  the  flank,  wheeling  upon  a  pivot. 

Then  the  manual  of  arms  was  a  mystery  which 
it  seemed  the  men  could  never  understand,  for  of 
course  they  wxre  very  awkward.  The  sun  was  hot, 
and  two  hours  of  exercise  like  this,  gave  them  a 
keen  relish  for  the  dinners  of  hard-tack,  pork  and 
coffee  which  awaited  them. 


The    Young    Volunteer.  39 

At  one  o'clock  they  usually  policed  the  regimental 
camp.  At  two  o'clock  came  battalion  drill,  when 
for  two  hours  the  entire  regiment  in  one  body  was 
drilled  by  the  colonel  assisted  by  the  other  field  offi- 
cers of  the  regiment.  At  six  o'clock  they  had  sup- 
per ;  at  sunset  the  regiment  went  out  on  dress  pa- 
rade, and  at  nine  o'clock  there  was  tattoo  or  taps  as 
it  was  usually  called. 

On  Sundays  there  was  no  drill,  but  a  regimental 
inspection.  At  ten  o'clock,  and  also  in  the  after- 
noon, there  were  religious  services.  The  regiment 
formed  in  a  hollow  square,  facing  inward,  and  the 
chaplain,  surrounded  by  the  officers,  standing  in  the 
center  to  conduct  the  services. 

Will  Newton  resolved  to  perform  his  duties  faith- 
fully. He  was  quick  to  learn,  and  soon  became  the 
most  expert  man  in  the  manual  of  arms  in  his  com- 
pany. His  uniform  was  always  neat  and  clean  ;  his 
gun  and  equipments  models  of  cleanliness  ;  his  shoes 
nicely  polished.  The  regimental  inspector  one  Sab- 
bath morning,  pronounced  him  the  model  soldier  of 
the  regiment. 

But  in  the  midst  of  these  manifold  duties  and 
strange  associations,  Will  always  found  time  to  read 
his  Bible,  and  before  retiring  at  night,  he  repeated 


(^o  Will  Newton^ 

the  prayer  which  he  had  learned  in  childhood.  It 
was  his  custom  to  read  a  chapter  aloud  in  the  tent 
each  evening.  Bill  Logan  had  kindly  assented  to 
•this,  and  always  listened  with  the  closest  attention. 
■  This  habit  of  reading  aloud  from  the  Bible  was 
soon  discovered  by  his  comrades,  and  a  portion  of 
them,  among  whom  were  some  of  those  who  had 
assaulted  him  on  that  memorable  Sabbath,  resolved 
to  ridicule  him  until  he  should  abandon  the  practice. 
They  would  gather  on  the  outside  around  his  tent, 
groan  and  make  the  most  hideous  noises  to  disturb 
him. 

Bill  Logan  endured  this  for  several  nights,  and 
when  they  had  closed  one  of  their  most  remarkable 
displays  of  rowdyism,  Bill  remarked, — "Look  here, 
messmate,  don't  it  say  somewhere  in  that  good  book, 
that  we  must  watch  as  well  as  pray?" 

"Yes  Bill,  there  is  something  like  that  found  here  ; 
but  why  do  you  ask?"  replied  Newton. 

"O  nothing,"  responded  the  other;  "only  lam 
not  good  for  much  on  a  prayer  ;  you  attend  to  that ; 
but  I  feel  divinely  moved  upon  to  watch^  while  you 
fi'ay ;  and  we  will  begin  to-morrow  night." 

Will  asked  no  questions  on  the  following  evening, 
when  just  before   the   time    for   the    evening    devo- 


The    To7ing    Volunteer.  41 

tions,  he  saw  Bill  take  from  beneath  his  blanket  a 
large  green-hide  whip,  such  as  were  used  in  driv- 
ing the  mule  teams ;  conceal  it  under  his  loose 
blouse  and  pass  out  into  the  darkness. 

Will  began  to  read  aloud  in  a  clear  distinct  tone 
of  voice. 

There  was  heard  a  rustling  of  some  half  dozen 
forms  gathering  in  the  grass  around  the  tent.  A 
series  of  grunts  and  groans  made  the  night  hideous. 

Bill  Logan,  Avho  had  been  concealed  behind  a 
neighboring  tent,  came  quietly  forward. 

The  great  whip  wielded  by  his  powerful  arm 
sang  and  whistled  through  the  air  and  came  down 
with  great  force  upon  the  bowed  forms  before  him  ; 
thicker  and  faster  fell  the  blows,  and  the  culprits 
jumped  and  ran  away  howling  with  pain,  and  as 
thoroughly  frightened  as  if  the  whole  Southern 
confederacy  had  broken  loose  upon  them. 

Bill  Logan  entered  the  tent  .and  laughed  until  he 
fell  upon  the  ground,  exclaiming,  "that  whip  which 
I  borrowed  of  a  mule  driver  had  a  powerful 
influence  upon  these  fellows." 

'  The  wicked  persecutors  never  attempted  any- 
thing of  the  kind  again,  and  they  carried  the  marks 
made  by  the  whip  for  several  weeks. 


42  Will  Newton^ 

Notwithstanding  all  the  work,  there  were  some 
leisure  hours  in  camp,  and  many  were  the  games 
invented  and    introduced   to  while    away  the   time. 

Will  had  made  many  intimate  friends,  and  as 
there  were  a  large  nuirfber  of  young  men  in  the 
company  he  did  not  lack  for  pleasant  associates. 

Some  of  the  games  he  enjoyed,  and  engaged  in 
them  with  all  the  ardor  and  zeal  of  boyhood. 

There  was  much  gambling  done  and  scarcely  a 
tent  could  be  found  in  the  whole  company,  save 
that  one  occupied  by  young  Newton,  but  what  con- 
tained one  or  more  packs  of  cards.  Nearly  all 
those  who  did  not  gamble  for  money,  played  for 
pleasure. 

Some  of  Will's  young  comrades  were  very 
anxious  that  he  should  play.  He  w^ould  plead 
ignorance  of  the  game ;  as  he  had  not  only  never 
played  but  had  never  seen  any  playing  cards  until 
after  he  had  enlisted. 

They  offered  to  teach  him  the  game.  Will  said 
that  he  did  not  think  it  was  right  to  play  with  them. 

"O,  nonsense  !" — urged  the  others.  "What  possi- 
ble harm  can  come  from  handling  these  little  pieces 
of    pasteboard ;    it  is    only  in  fun."     Other    voices 


The    Young    Volunteer.  43 

chimed  in,  to  increase  the  pressure  brought  to  bear 
upon  him. 

There  was  a  peculiar  fascination  about  the 
beautifully  painted  cards  which  had  a  singular 
influence  over  Will ;  and  within  his  own  mind  he 
reasoned,  "What  harm  can  come  from  it." 

But  a  little  voice  in  his  heart  was  speaking  and 
telling  him  that  he  had  better  say  no  before  the 
victory  was  fairly  won. 

He  heard  his  name  called  by  Bill  Logan,  and 
hastened  to  ascertain  what  was  wanted. 

"Will,"  said  he,  "I  never  want  you  to  learn  to 
play  cards,"  as  young  New^ton  entered  the  tent. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Will,  wath  a  smile. 

Reason  enough  !  said  the  other.  I  could  tell  you 
a  story  about  cards  that  you  would  not  forget  in  a 
hurry. 

"Well,  Bill ;  I  am  very  glad  you  spoke  to  me 
when  you  did,  although  I  guess  I  should  have  said 
no  if  vou  had  not  called  me  ;  but  I  will  confess 
that  I  was  having  quite  a  little  struggle  in  my 
breast.  But  noAV  I  will  lie  down  beside  you  on  the 
blankets  while  you  tell  me  the  story  ;  for  I  know 
that  I  shall  enjoy  it  very  much. 


44  Will  Newton^ 

*'Well,  I  don't  mind,"  said  the  other.  ''I  am  not 
much  of  a  hand  to  spin  a  yarn,  but  will  do  the 
best  I  can,  and  you  will  soon  know  why  I  advise 
you  and  all  other  young  men  to  let  cards  alone. 

You  know  I  began  to  follow  the  sea  when  I  was 
only  ten  years  of  age.  For  the  first  two  years  I 
went  as  a  cabin-boy  ;  and  then  thinking  that  I  was 
a  man,  I  shipped  before  the  mast,  and  went  as 
ordinary  sailor.  The  forecastle  was  a  rough,  hard 
place  in  those  days,  worse  than  it  is  now  by  a  great 
deal.  I  had  not  been  there  many  months  before  I 
could  sing  foolish  songs,  swear,  chew  tobacco, 
drink  a  mug  of  New  England  rum,  and  play  cards 
with  the  best  of  them. 

When  I  was  about  sixteen  years  old,  I  shipped 
on  board  a  large  merchantman  at  New  York,  bound 
for  Liverpool.  We  had  good  officers,  a  fine  crew, 
and  as  noble  a  craft  as  ever  crossed  the  Atlantic. 
Among  the  crew  was  a  young  man  about  my  own 
age.  He  w^as  a  good  sailor,  a  kind-hearted,  steady- 
going  chap.  When  he  was  off  duty,  instead  of 
playing  cards  and  drinking  grog  with  the  rest  of  us, 
he  used  to  read  books  and  write  letters. 

He  quickly  earned  the  name  of  deacon,  and  was 
soon  called  by  that  title  by  the  whole  crew,  includ- 


The    Young    Volunteer.  45 

ing  the  officers.      He  always  answered  to  his  name, 
and  never  seemed  disturbed  about  it. 

Well,  I  used  to  coax  the  deacon  to  plav  cards. 

For  a  lono^  time  he  refused  to  give  his  consent, 
but  at  last  he  yielded  the  point  if  I  would  teach  him 
how  it  was  done.  But,  bless  you.  it  was  no  work 
to  teach  him,  for  he  learned  so  easily  that  before  the 
end  of  the  first  week  he  could  shuffle  a  pack  of 
cards  like  an  old  gambler.  I  took  especial  pains  to 
show  him  all  the  tricks  of  cheating  in  the  various 
games  ;  and  it  was  not  long  before  he  could  beat 
me  more  than  half  the  time. 

The  devil  himself  seemed  to  help  the  deacon 
along,  for  I  never  knew  a  man  to  hold  such  hands 
as  he  would. 

Why,  I  have  played  with  him  for  hours,  and 
when  I  would  get  a  pair,  he  would  have  two  pairs; 
if  I  held  the  two  pairs  he  would  have  threes  ;  when 
I  got  threes  of  a  kind  he  was  sure  to  have  fours,  or 
a  straight,  or  a  fiush,  or  something  else  that  would 
beat  mine. 

Having  this  remarkable  luck,  he  became  terribly 
interested  in  the  game.  When  I  could  not  play 
with  him  he  would  play  with  the  other  fellows. 

4 


46  Will  Newton^ 

He  no  longer  had  any  interest  in  his  reading  or 
his  writing,  and  I  almost  felt  that  he  ought  not  to 
be  called  deacon  any  more. 

Before  we  reached  Liverpool  he  was  a  completely 
changed  man,  and  I  began  to  feel  badly  that  I  had 
induced  him  to  play. 

From  Liverpool  we  sailed  for  San  Francisco.  It 
was  a  long,  tedious  voyage  ;  the  weather  was  stormy 
and  the  sea  rough.  Before  we  arrived  in  port  my 
messmate  had  become  a  confirmed  gambler.  He 
also  had  learned  to  swear  and  drink  rum.  All  his 
spare  time  was  spent  at  the  cards. 

It  made  my  heart  ache  sometimes  to  pass  by  him 
when  he  was  playing,  and  hear  the  oaths  fall  from 
his  lips,  and  see  the  fire  flash  in  his  eyes.  I  tried  to 
reason  with  him  but  it  was  of  no  use.  The  cards 
had  captured  him,  soul  and  body.  He  only  laughed 
at  mv  fears.  The  whole  crew  admitted  that  the 
deacon  was  the  most  skillful  and  respectable  card- 
player  on  board  the  ship. 

While  we  were  at  San  Francisco,  the  deacon  got 
permission  one  afternoon  to  go  on  shore  for  a  few 
hours.  The  next  morning  he  had  not  returned. 
Late  in  the  day  the  old  man  sent  three  of  us  ashore 
to  see  if  we  could  find  him.    We  visited  the  saloons 


The   Young    Volunteer.  47 

and  dens  such  as  sailors  usually  frequent,  but  could 
find  no  indications  of  our  missing  man.  Late  in 
the  evening,  just  as  we  were  about  to  return  to  the 
ship,  we  entered  one  of  the  worst  saloons  that  I  ever 
visited,  and  as  we  passed  into  the  back  room,  we 
found  a  crowd  of  about  fifty  men,  made  up  largely 
of  Spaniards,  Italians  and  Mexicans,  and  the  dea- 
con was  among  them  at  a  table  playing  blufi^with 
three  desperadoes.  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  dea- 
con had  been  drinking.  His  face  was  flushed  and 
his  eyes  gleamed  like  coals  of  fire. 

He  saw  us  enter,  but  gave  no  sign  of  recognition. 
The  devil  had  evidently  been  favoring  him,  for  he 
had  been  winning  large  sums  of  money.  Golden 
coins  were  lingling  in  every  pocket,  and  a  large 
yellow  stack  of  them  was  piled  up  beside  him.  A 
great  sum  of  money  was  on  the  board,  and  they 
were  betting  on  their  cards. 

Two  of  the  four  had  already  dropped  out.  It 
was  now  between  the  deacon  and  a  desperate  look- 
ing Spaniard.  The  whole  crowd  were  armed  with 
;knives  and  pistols,  and  I  trembled  for  our  safety. 

"I  will  raise  you  one  hundred  dollars,"  said  the 
deacon,  as  he  flung  a  handful  of  doubloons  on  the 
board.      The  Spaniard  stealthily  took   a  card  from 


48  JVill  Newton^ 

beneath  him  on  the  chair,  and  repHed  in  broken 
English,  •'!  sees  your  hundred,  and  goes  one  hun- 
dred more."  The  deacon,  with  rare  skill,  slipped  a 
card  from  his  sleeve,  looked  a  moment,  and  said, 
*'I  will  cover  your  money  and  raise  you  five  hun- 
dred dollars." 

The  Spaniard  was  staggered.  He  glanced  first 
at  his  own  hand,  and  then  at  the  almost  livid  coun- 
tenance of  his  opponent.  Five  hundred  dollars 
would  take  all  the  money  he  possessed.  It  was  but 
for  a  moment  that  he  hesitated,  and  fifty  pieces  of 
gold  were  added  to  the  pile  upon  the  center  of  the 
board. 

'^I  calls,  what  have  you.-*"  said  the  Spaniard. 

"Fours,"  replied  the  deacon. 

"Fours  here,  too,"  responded  the  other ;  "and 
queens  at  that  I" 

"Ah  !  kings,  here  I"  said  the  deacon,  as  he  threw 
four  crowned  heads  upon  the  table, and  then  reached 
forth  his  right  hand  to  pull  in  the  money. 

The  Spaniard  looked  like  a  demon,  and  drawing 
a  dagger,  quicker  than  a  flash,  he  drove  the  long, 
glittering  blade  through  the  arm  of  my  friend,  pin- 
ning it  fast  to  the  board  upon  which  it  had  rested. 


The    Tou?ig    V^olu7ttee7'.  49 

All  was  confusion.  Pistol  shots  and  yells  filled 
the  room.  I  can  only  remember  smashing  a  chair 
over  the  Spaniard's  head,  and  then  all  was  dark. 

When  I  awoke,  I  saw  that  I  was  in  the  same 
room.  I  had  been  badly  injured,  and  so  were  my 
companions  ;  but  worse  than  all  the  rest,  my  young 
friend  lay  cold  and  lifeless  upon  the  floor.  A  pistol 
shot  had  passed  through  his  heart. 

The  next  day  we  buried  him  in  the  city,  and  as  I 
stood  over  his  unmarked  grave,  I  resolved  that  I 
would  never  play  another  game  of  cards,  or  drink 
another  drop  of  liquor. 

Many  years  have  passed  since  then,  and  during 
those  years  I  have  been  in  all  parts  of  the  world, 
but  I  have  never  seen  a  single  hour  that  I  was  not 
glad  that  I  had  made  that  decision.  And  whenever 
I  see  a  young  man  or  boy  learning  to  play  cards,  I 
always  w^ant  to  tell  them  of  the  terrible  danger  that 
slumbers  in  those  harmless,  innocent  looking  pieces 
of  paste  board.  That  is  the  reason  I  do  not  w^ant 
you  to  learn  to  play." 

Will  had  been  deeply  affected  by  the  story,  and 
again  thanked  his  friend  for  his  timely  advice,  and 
solemnly  pledged  himself  never  to  play  cards  even 
for  simple  amusement. 


^O  Wi7l  Newton^ 

Young  Newton  derived  much  pleasure  during- 
those  weeks  from  his  correspondence.  There  was- 
scarcely  a  man  who  received  as  many  letters  as  did 
he ;  and  whenever  the  bugle  call,  "fall  in  for  mail" 
was  heard,  Will  was  always  among  the  most  anx- 
ious for  it  to  arrive  ;  and  nearly  every  day,  one  or 
more  letters  was  received.  Many  of  them  came 
from  the  Lamb  family,  and  one  at  least  each  week 
written  in  a  coarse,  sprawling  hand,  signed, — Your 
friend,  Jerry  Lamb. 

In  return  he  wrote  his  friends  in  Maplewood  full 
description  of  his  army  life,  and  also  of  the  country 
in  which  they  w^ere  encamped.  These  letters  w^ere 
eagerly  read  by  his  old  friends  ;  and  one  letter  in 
which  he  had  spoken  of  his  zeal  for  the  prosecution 
of  the  w^ar,  and  of  his  love  for  the  country,  was  taken 
into  the  pulpit  and  read  aloud  to  the  people  by 
the  pastor. 

Young  Newton  was  a  most  excellent  penman, 
and  that  fact  added  much  to  the  amount  of  labor  he 
was  called  upon  to  perform.  He  was  frequently 
called  to  the  captain's  tent  to  assist  in  making  up 
the  company  rolls.  While  there,  he  was  brought 
into  contact  with  many  of  the  officers,  and  before 
many  weeks  had  passed,  there  was  not  a  non-com- 


The    Toung    Volunteer,  ^f 

missioned  officer  in  the  regiment  who  had  so- 
extensive  an  acquaintance  as  that  enjoyed  by  Will 
Newton.  He  was  so  prompt  in  performing  all  his- 
duties,  so  polite  and  pleasing  in  his  manners,  that  he 
became  a  general  favorite  with  all  who  knew  him. 

There  were  a  number  of  men  in  his  company 
who  could  not  write,  and  these  soon  learned  to  go 
to  Will  for  assistance  ;  and  he  gladly  employed  his 
rapid  skillful  pen  in  writing  letters  for  them. 

Among  those  who  thus  came  to  him  for  help  was 
the  young  fellow  who  had  assaulted  him  in  the  large 
tent,  on  that  memorable  Sabbath  evening,  in  the 
city  of  D —  ;  also,  several  of  those  who  united  with 
him  in  that  brutal  attack,  came  for  the  same  pur- 
pose. These  were  the  same  who  had  endeavored 
to  ridicule  him  but  a  few  weeks  ago  for  reading 
the  Bible  aloud  in  his  tent.  But  they  never  referred 
to  those  matters,  and  Will  was  glad  to  assist  them, 
and  secure  their  friendship. 

One  evening  he  had  been  engaged  to  write  a 
letter  for  his  old  enemy,  whose  name  was  Bob 
Stacy,  to  his  mother,  who  then  resided  in  Boston. 
The  letter  was  completed,  and  read  aloud  for  Bob's 
approval  or  disapproval.  But  unlike  his  usual 
custom.  Bob  was  silent. 


52  VFi/l  Neivton^ 

"What  is  the  trouble  Bob,"  queried  the  writer; 
"Are  you  not  satisfied  with  it?" 

"Oh!  it  is  not  that,"  said  the  other, — "but  do 
vou  know  Will,  what  I  was  thinking  about?" 

"Of  course  not,  how  can  I  read  your  thoughts" 
said  Will. 

"Well,  sir;  I  was  thinking  how  proud  my  poor 
old  mother  in  Bostoit  would  be,  if  she  had  a  son 
who  could  write  a  letter  like  that,"  and  as  he  spoke, 
his  coarse  voice  became  a  little  husky, — "And  I 
was  also  thinking^  how  misrhtv  mean  I  have  treated 
you,  and  am  now  obliged  to  depend  upon  you  to 
write  for  me  my  letters," — and  the  rough  chin 
quivered  as  he  spoke. 

"O,  never  mind  about  that.  Bob  ;  I  had  forgotten 
all  about  it ;  and  upon  the  whole  I  do  not  know  but 
that  Bill  Logan  and  I  ought  to  apologize  to  you  for 
the  blow  I  save  vou  in  the  tent,  and  for  the  horse- 
whipping  he  gave  you  here." 

Bob's  face  did  not  lose  its  doleful  look  as  he  con- 
tinued,— "You  both  served  me  just  right ;  but  Will, 
I  have  been  thinking  for  se^'eral  days  that  I  wanted 
to  do  better.  I  have  watched  you,  and  I  believe 
you  get  along  easier  than  I  do,  and  have  more 
friends.     I  want   to   be  and   to    do  like   vou ;    and 


The    Tou7tg    Volunteer.  53 

before  you  seal  the  letter,  ^^^rite  at  the  bottom  of  the 
page  to  mother,  that  I  am  going  to  try  and  be  a 
better  man  ;"  and  as  he  wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyes, 
he  added,  "ask  her  to  pray  for  her  j^oor  wicked  boy 
that  he  may  do  better." 

Will  was  not  only  surprised,  but  delighted  to 
hear  these  \\'ords  from  his  old  tormentor.  He 
encouraged  Bob,  and  invited  him  to  visit  his  tent 
each  evening,  and  listen  while  he  read  a  chapter 
from  the  Bible. 

When  he  informed  Bill  Loofan  of  v^'hat  had  taken 
place,  the  latter  w^as  speechless  for  a  •moment,  then 
discharging  a  large  quantity  of  tobacco  juice  from 
his  lips,  remarked, — "It  beats  the  world  how  you 
have  conquered  that  fellow.  Nothing  outside  of 
the  Scriptures  compares  w^th  it.  I  declare  it 
reminds  me  of  that  yarn  in  the  Old  Testament, 
where  that  young  Noah,  who  left  his  flock  of  sheep, 
and  hid  in  the  basket  of  bulrushes,  and  laid  out  the 
old  Giant  Goliah"— 

Bill's  speech  was  interrupted  by  the  loud  laughter 
of  Will,  who  informed  him  that  his  Scripture  was 
sadly  mixed. 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  said  Bill ;   "it  is  manyyears 
since    I  used  to  box    the  Scriptural  compass  in  the 


54  Wz7l  Newton, 

Sunday-school,  and  have  probably  lost  the  regular 

points." 

Thus  the  days  passed,  and  when  the  first  of 
July  came.  Will  had  learned  not  only  to  be  a  soldier, 
but  had  found  his  way  to  the  hearts  and  good 
wishes  of  his  comnianding  officers,  and  also  of  the 
comrades  in  his  company. 


CHAPTER    III. 

The  Federal  Army  was  preparing  for  a  battle. 
The  Confederates  were  entrenched  at  Manassas, 
just  beyond  the  Bull  Run  stream.  The  Union 
forces  under  the  command  of  General  McDowell, 
were  moving  forward  to  give  them  battle.  Will,  in 
common  with  all  the  young  men  in  his  regiment, 
was  anxious  to  meet  the  Confederates.  They  of 
course  knew  nothing  of  war ;  nothing  about  the 
scenes  and  experiences  of  the  battle  field  ;  nothing 
in  relation  to  the  brave,  stubborn  men  w4iom  they 
were  to  encounter  upon  the  red  fields  of  war. 

It  was  on  the  2ist  of  July.  There  had  been  a 
skirmish  the  previous  evening,  and  to-day  the  great 
battle  was  to  be  fought.  Will's  regiment  was  near 
the  extreme  right  of  the  Union  army,  and  was  to 
cross  Bull  Run  stream  at  the  upper  bridge,  or 
ford. 

It  w^as  an  exciting  morning  in  the  life  of  our 
hero.     How  eagerly  he  watched  all  the  preliminary 


^6  Will  N'ewfofi, 

movements  of  the  Union  army.  The  long  lines  of 
infantry  moving  at  a  rapid  gait  along  the  roads,  and 
across  the  fields  ;  squadrons  of  cavalry  dashing  in 
almost  every  direction  ;  batteries  of  artillery,  vv^ith 
six  horses  attached  to  each  gun,  and  the  same  num- 
ber to  each  ammunition  wagon  thundering  along 
the  roads  ;  officers  with  their  escorts  riding  rapidly 
to  overtake  their  respective  commands  ;  ambulances, 
baggage  wagons,  sutler's  wagons ;  horses  led  by 
scores  of  colored  men  bearing  officers  baggage. 

It  w^as  a  scene  of  great  confusion  to  Will,  and  he 
wondered  how  any  one  commander  could  bring 
svstem  and  order  out  of  such  chaos. 

The  stream  was  finally  crossed,  and  in  the  intense 
heat,  the  battle  lines  began  to  form.  Will  could 
now  see  but  little  of  what  was  transpiring ;  but 
within  the  narrow  scope  of  his  vision,  he  watched 
intently  all  that  was  taking  place. 

In  front  of  the  field  where  his  regiment  was 
halted,  a  skirmish  line  was  formed,  consisting  of 
men  who  had  been  detailed  from  the  various  regi- 
ments for  that  purpose.  These  men  were  stationed 
about  twenty  feet  apart,  and  at  the  word  of  com- 
mand, moved  forward  promptly  and  at  a  rapid  rate 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  5^ 

through  the  under-brush  in  front  of  the  Union  Hne 
of  battle. 

Will  knew  that  these  men  had  been  sent  forward 
to  develop  or  uncover  the  enemy's  position,  and 
that  the  conflict  would  soon  open.  Anxiously 
he  watched  the  advancing  skirmishers,  as  he  caught 
occasional  glimpses  of  their  blue  forms  gliding 
through  the  bushes.  Suddenly  he  saw  a  puff'  of 
Avhite  smoke  ;  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  came  ring- 
ing upon  the  air  ;  then,  crack  I  crack  I  crack  !  came 
from  the  skirmishers'  rifles  all  along  the  line,  like 
a  cluster  of  fire-crackers.  A  little  cloud  of  blue 
smoke  rose  above  the  under-brush.  Then  rifle 
shots,  humming  like  bees,  went  through  the  air 
over  Will's  head.  The  sound  of  a  scattering  volley 
from  beyond  the  Union  skirmishers  gave  them  the 
information  that  the  battle  had  be^an. 

Intently  did  Will  listen  to  these  fearful  sounds, 
and  frequently  he  dodged,  as  a  Confederate  shot 
whistled  in  dangerous  proximitv  to  his  head.  There 
was  a  fearful  and  unexpected  crash  behind  him.  A 
terrible  screech  was  heard  in  the  air.  For  a 
moment,  Will  thought  that  the  whole  Southern 
Confederacy  had  broken  loose  in  the  air  above  him  ;, 
crash  after  crash   came  in  rapid  succession,  while 


58  Will  Newton, 

the  atmosphere  seemed  ahve  with  yelling,  screech- 
ing demons. 

Our  friend  quickly  learned  that  a  battery  of 
artillery  had  gone  into  position  behind  him,  and 
was  hurling  its  rifled  shells  at  the  enemy.  The 
men  cheered  as  the  shells  crashed  above  them  and 
a  faint  yell  was  heard  upon  the  skirmish  line,  as 
the  blue  coats  advanced  and  pressed  their  opponents 
back. 

This  seeming  advantage  ^vas  only  for  a  moment ; 
for  soon  the  Union  skirmishers  were  obliged  to 
return  to  their  former  position,  Avhile  the  Confed- 
erate bullets  came  more  rapidly  than  before.  ^  Soon 
a  huge  shell  went  plowing  into  the  ground  just  in 
front  of  Will's  company,  and  exploding,  sent  a 
shower  of  dirt  all  over  the  men. 

There  were  many  pale  cheeks  along  the  line,  and 
but  a  few  could  muster  a  smile  as  Bill  Logan 
muttered,  "Hope  they  will  tack  ship  before  they 
fire  again." 

The  battle  had  been  raging  for  some  time  at 
different  points  along  the  line,  and  now  the  brigade 
of  which  Will's  regiment  "was  a  portion,  moved 
forward  to  take  part  in  the  conflict.  Will's  heart 
beat    more   rapidly  than  usual    as    they    advanced 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  59 

directly  towards  the  Confederate  battery.  They 
could  not  see  the  enemy,  but  the  whistling  shots 
and  horrible  shells,  bore  ample  testimony  to  their 
immediate  presence. 

Gallantly,  with  well  dressed  lines  they  moved 
forward,  the  skirmish  line  still  moving  in  the 
advance.  They  marched  in  this  manner  for  nearly 
a  mile,  when  they  came  in  sight  of  the  Confederate 
line  of  battle,  upon  an  eminence  almost  a  mile 
distant.  The  Confederates  also  discovered  them, 
and  turned  all  the  guns  of  their  battery  upon  the 
blue  column. 

For  some  reason,  the  line  was  ordered  to  halt,  and 
lie  down  upon  the  ground.  This  was  quickly  done  ; 
but  Will  and  his  comrades  found  themselves  in  an 
unpleasant  and  embarrassing  position.  The  skir- 
mishers were  shooting  at  each  other  in  the  front ; 
but  thev  could  onlv  fire  at  random,  with  as  o^reat  a 
probability  of  hitting  their  own  men,  as  they  were 
the  Confederates.  The  latter's  line  of  battle  was 
bevond  the  rang-e  of  their  cruns.  The  Confederate 
artillery  was  making  sad  havoc  with  the  Union 
men.  The  Union  batteries  were  returning  their 
fire,  and  shells  passed  and  repassed  above  the 
shrinking-  forms  within  the  Union  line,  while   many 


6o  IVi'll  Newton^ 

of  those  from  the  Confederate  guns,  fell  near,  or 
within  their  ranks. 

Will,  pale  and  frightened,  was  listening  to  the 
awful  roar,  when  a  huge  shell  burst  in  the  air 
just  above  them,  hurling  its  missiles  of  death  in 
every  direction.  Several  men  were  injured.  Will 
raised  his  head  to  see  who  the  victims  were,  and 
was  horrified  to  behold  his  friend.  Bob  Stacy,  in  the 
agonies  of  death.  A  huge  piece  of  the  ragged  iron 
had  tcnn  through  his  shoulder  in  such  a  manner, 
that  life  could  lingfer  in  the  shattered  tenement  but 
for  a  moment.  Will  rushed  to  his  side,  bending 
over  the  dying  man. 

Bob  was  conscious,  and  recognized  his  friend. 
''I  am  going,  Will."  he  hoarsely  whispered,  and 
putting  his  cold  weak  arms  with  a  convulsive  effort 
around  Will's  neck,  he  whispered, — • -Write  to  my 
mother  that  her  pravers  were  answered."  A 
shudder,  and  Bob  Stacy  was  dead. 

Will  forgot  all  the  dangerous  surroundings,  and 
for  a  few  moments  sat  by  the  cold  form,  clasping 
his  hands,  while  the  tears  poured  down  his  face. 
''Too  bad  !  Too  bad  !"  he  murmured,  •'!  shall  miss 
him  so  much." 


> 

H 

w 
c 


!^ 


CO 


'I 


I 


The    Toting    Volunteer.  6i 

These  reveries  were  suddenly  interrupted  by  the 
cry,  '''' Fall  inl  fall  inl  foivardl  guide  center,, 
double  quick.,  march  T'  They  were  to  charge  upon 
the  Confederate  battery.  It  is  quite  impossible  for 
my  pen  to  describe  the  sensations  which  passed 
through  Will's  mind  as  they  made  that  grand,  wild 
charge  across  the  tield,  and  up  the  hill  on  whose 
crest  the  guns  were  planted.  The  line  of  battle,  as 
is  usually  the  case,  was  very  much  broken  up  ;  offi- 
cers were  shouting  their  commands  ;  the  men  were 
cheering  and  yelling  like  so  many  mad  men  ;  shells 
were  crashing  among  them  ;  there  was  groaning, 
praying,  swearing  and  dying. 

Bravely  the  thin,  shattered  line  pressed  onward. 
Will  had  thrown  avv'ay  everything  but  his  gun  and 
equipments,  and  being  a  swift  runner,  he  kept  well 
up  with  the  foremost  of  his  comrades.  They  climbed 
the  hill-side,  and  with  a  cheer  sprang  towards  the 
battery  where  guns  were  still  vomiting  fire  and 
death.  Will,  beside  himself  with  excitement,  sprang 
up  to  one  of  the  guns,  and  shot  down  the  officer 
who  was  in  command. 

At  that  moment  a  line  of  gray  infantrymen,  who 
up  to  this  time  had  been  unobserved  by  the  Union 
men^  arose  to  their  feet  and  poured  a  destructive  fire 


62  Will  Newto7i^ 

upon  the  assailants.  The  Union  line  staggered  and 
the  survivors  were  hurled  down  the  hill  and  back 
over  the  plain.  The  shattered  remnants  of  the  reg- 
iment could  not  be  rallied  until  they  had  fallen  back 
to  the  position  they  had  occupied  when  the  battle 
opened  in  the  morning. 

The  conflict  w^as  still  raging  with  varying  results. 
Early  in  the  afternoon  Will's  regiment  was  again 
ordered  forward.  They  had  advanced  but  a  little 
distance,  w^hen  our  friend  ^vith  a  number  of  other 
men  in  the  company,  were  detailed  to  go  out  and 
re-inforce  the  skirmish  line.  As  they  thus  advanced 
in  front  of  the  line  of  battle.  Will  heard  a  loud 
shout,  and  saw  Union  men  hastening  to  the  rear  on 
the  right  and  left.  He  did  not  know  enough  about 
w^ar  to  ask  himself  the  question  what  that  indicated, 
but  ran  on  as  fast  as  he  could  go.  He  soon  looked 
over  his  shoulder  to  ascertain  how  far  he  \vas  in  ad- 
vance of  the  line  of  battle,  when,  to  his  surprise,  he 
found  that  it  had  vanished,  and  around  him  he  could 
see  Union  men  hastening  to  the  rear.  He  w^aited  a 
few  moments  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  v^diat  it  all 
meant,  until  he  found  that  he  was  left  almost  alone 
upon  tliat  portion  of  the  battle  field.   Then  deciding 


The    Yoimg    V^olu7iteer.  63 

that  some  change  had  been  made  in  the  phin  of  the 
battle,  he  went  back  in  search  of  his  regiment. 

As  he  was  thus  slowly  making  his  way  to  the 
rear,  for  he  was  very  weary,  he  saw  a  group  of 
gray  horsemen  dash  out  from  behind  a  clump  of 
underbrush  and  gallop  toward  him.  Then  he  be- 
gan to  run.  The  horsemen  soon  disappeared  from 
view.  At  a  rapid  pace,  Will  continued  his  way 
to  the  rear  in  search  of  his  regiment,  which  he  ex- 
pected to  find  every  moment.  But  to  his  great  sur- 
prise, he  did  not  find  any  body  of  organized  troops 
whatever ;  and  every  soldier  whom  he  saw  was 
moving  in  the  same  direction  with  himself.  He 
could  not  understand  what  it  meant  that  men  and 
teams  should  be  hastening  back  towards  Bull  Run. 

A  tall  zouave  in  a  splendid  uniform,  but  evidently 
much  demoralized,  was  dashing  past  Will  to  the 
rear  at  a  three  minute  gait,  and  Newton  accosted 
him  with, — "Say,  comrade,  w4iat  does  all  this  mean  ; 
wdiere  are  all  these  men  going?" 

The  tall  zouave  stopped  and  looked  upon  the 
questioner  with  a  countenance  expressive  of  pity 
and  contempt,  and  replied,  "Mean.?  why  it  means 
that  we  are  licked  out  of  our  boots !  Mean.?  it 
means  that  we  are    running   for  our  lives,  and  that 


64  Wi7l  Newton^ 

the  rebels  will  be  here  in  less  than  three  minutes  to 
gobble  us  all  up,  and  I  advise  you  to  git  up  and  git 
or  you  will  be  taken  prisoner,"  and  on  he  ran. 

The  whole  situation,  now  for  the  first  time,  flashed 
upon  Will's  mind.  The  battle  had  been  fought  and 
lost  by  the  Federal  army,  and  now  they  were  all  in 
full  retreat  from  the  field. 

A  retreat  from  the  battle  field  is  one  of  the  most 
thrilling  events  in  the  history  of  armies.  When  the 
retreat  becomes  a  panic,  and  the  officers  have  no 
(iontrol  over  the  men,  it  becomes  an  indescribable 
scene. 

It  was  one  of  these  events  in  its  most  awful  aspect 
that  burst  upon  the  vision  of  W^ill  Newton,  as  he 
made  his  way  towards  the  Bull  Run  stream.  The 
surface  of  the  country  was  quite  level,  and  as  the 
fences  had  been  torn  down,  there  were  no  formida- 
ble barriers  to  prevent  men  and  horses  from  moving 
across  the  fields  in  any  direction. 

There  were  at  least  half  a  dozen  roads  leading 
from  the  battle  field  upon  the  Federal  right,  to  the 
upper  bridge  which  crossed  the  stream.  These  roads 
w^ere  all  crowded  with  teams,  three  or  four  of  them 
abreast,  rushing  along  regardless  of  frequent  collis- 
ion, each  intent  on  reaching  the  bridge  at  the  earli- 


The   7'ou)ig    Vohinteei'.  (y^ 

est  possible  moment.  Artillery,  baggage  wagons  and 
iimbulances,  all  struggling  in  the  wildest  confusion. 
Across  the  fields,  other  teams  came  tearing  along, 
and  plunged  into  the  living  mass,  adding  confusion 
and  terror  to  the  already  confused  and  terrified  mass. 
The  horses  seemed  to  have  caught  the  panic,  or  the 
inspiration  of  flight,  and  with  flashing  eyes  and  dis- 
tended nostrils,  dashed  onward  at  the  highest  possi- 
ble rate  of  speed.  Their  drivers,  beside  themselves 
with  fear,  shouted  at  the  top  of  their  voices  and 
plied  the  v^^hip  with  great  vigor.  The  infantry  ha4 
lost  all  semblance  of  an  organization,  and  brave 
men  who  had  on  that  day  faced  death  fearlessly, 
were  being  borne  backward  by  the  terrible  panic 
that  reigned  supreme. 

For  some  reason  the  whole  army  was  panic  stricken 
and  flying  from  a  field  that  they  had  nearly  won. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  excitement,  a  baggage 
« 
wagon  was  overturned  near  the  bridge.  Immedi- 
ately three  or  four  others  crashed  upon  it,  thus  filling 
and  blocking  the  passage  with  a  huge  mass  of  ruins. 
Then  followed  a  scene  which  beggars  all  descrip- 
tion. Men,  horses  and  wagons  were  heaped  up  in 
one  great  mass.  Other  teams  dashed  upon  them, 
•only  to  add  to  the  horrors  of  the  awful  scene.   Team- 


66  Will  Newton^ 

sters  in  the  rear,  and  others  who  were  in  the  sur- 
rounding fields,  now  cut  their  horses  loose  from  the 
wagons,  guns  and  caissons,  leaving  them  as  spoils 
for  the  victorious  Confederates.  The  horses  plung- 
ing into  the  stream,  swam  to  the  opposite  bank. 
Many  of  the  riders  were  dismounted  in  the  panic, 
and  scores  of  noble  horses  dashed  in  almost  every 
direction  across  the  field. 

It  is  not  strange  that  Will  Newton,  too,  caught 
the  panic.  He  threw  away  his  gun,  then  his  equip- 
ments, and  when  Bull  Run  was  reached,  he  was 
making  as  rapid  time  as  the  fleetest.  He  saw  at  a 
glance  that  there  was  no  hope  of  crossing  upon  the 
bridge,  so  he  plunged  into  the  sluggish,  muddy 
water  and  swam  across.  Sitting  dow^n  for  a  mo- 
ment upon  the  bank,  he  took  off*  his  wet  shoes  and 
stockings,  and  resumed  his  retreat  barefooted,  fear- 
ing that  he  was  not  getting  along  as  fast  as  the  ex- 
iofencies  of  the  case  demanded.  He  threw  ofl'  his 
cap  and  blouse  and  continued  his  flight  with  renewed 


vigor. 


It  is  a  wonderful  fact  that  under  such  circum- 
stances, a  man  becomes  utterly  oblivious  to  every 
thing  else  but  his  flight.  Newton  had  no  concep- 
tion of  the   passage  of  time,  the    distance    he    had! 


The    Young    Volu?iteer.  67" 

run,  the  direction  in  which  he  was  running,  or  the 
fact  that  he  had  not  seen  a  single  Federal  or  Con- 
federate soldier  for  the  last  two  hours. 

As  he  was  climbing  a  high  Virginia  fence,  he 
chaYiced  to  notice  that  the  sun  was  passing  from 
view  behind  the  western  hills.  To  his  great  sur- 
prise there  were  no  Confederates  within  sight.  His 
bare  feet  were  bleeding  profusely  ;  his  clothes  were 
wet,  and  great  drops  of  perspiration  were  dropping 
from  his  face.  He  was  very  hungry,  and  so  com- 
pletely exhausted  that  he  could  only  with  difficulty 
climb  the  fence  upon  which  he  sat.  As  he  consid- 
ered his  situation,  he  involuntarily  muttered  to  him- 
self, '^What  a  fool  I  am  !"  But  something  n^st  be 
done.  Night  Avas  rapidly  approaching.  He  must 
have  some  food,  and  endeavor  to  find  his  regiment. 

There  was  a  small  farm  house  not  far  from  where 
Will  was  sitting,  and  he  determined  to  visit  it  and 
try  to  purchase  some  food.  He  mustered  all  the 
courage  he  could  command  and  advanced  towards 
the  house.  But  he  presented  a  rather  sorry  figure 
as  he  limped  along  the  foot-path  leading  to  the  door  of 
the  house.  His  approach  was  announced  in  genuine 
Virginian  style  by  the  barking  of  half  a  dozen  dogs 
and  by  the  shouts  of  an  many    little    negroes,   who 


68  Will  Neivton, 

laughed,  rolled  their  eyes  and  displayed  their  white 
teeth  as  Newton  passed  b}-  them. 

The  owner  of  the  establishment  sat  upon  his  ve- 
randa smoking  a  corn  cob  pipe. 

"•Good  evening,  sir  ;"  quoth  Will,  as  he  stood  be- 
fore the  Virginian. 

"Evening,  sir  ;"  was  the  only  reply. 

"I  am  a  stranger,"  continued  Newton,  "I  am 
hungry  and  tired,  and  have  come  to  purchase  some 
food." 

"I  reckon  bv  vour  looks  that  you  are  one  of  Lin- 
coin's  soldiers,"  responded  the  owner  of  the  house. 

"Yes,  sir;"  replied  Will,  and  then  the  following 
little  dialogue  took  place  : 

"Where  have  you  been.''" 

"Over  to  Bull  Run." 

"Has  there  been  a  fight.'" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Who  beat.?" 

"The  Confederates,  sir." 

"Well,  that  is  good  news.  And  what  are  you 
fellows  down  here  for,  anyway,  stranger.?" 

"To  save  the  Union." 

"All  nonsense  !  Old  Lincoln  has  just  got  you 
down  here  to  run  oft' our  niororers.  and  nothing"  else. 


The    7'oung    V^olunteer.  69 

I  would  like  to  string  him  up  to  a  tree  I"  ejaculated 
the  irate  Virginian. 

"Will  you  sell  me  some  food?"  questioned  Will, 
as  the  other  stopped  to  take  breath. 

"No,  I  won't !"  thundered  the  other.  "I  will  see 
you  and  every  other  nigger  hunter  in  the  whole 
Yankee  army  starve  first !  Feed  you  ?  I  would 
rather  hang  you,  or  shoot  you  like  a  dog !"  rising  to 
his  feet. 

During  this  conversation,  Will  Newton  had  been 
revolving  in  his  mind  as  to  the  best  course  for  him 
to  pursue  under  the  unlooked  for  circumstances,  and 
concluded  that  he  would  put  on  a  bold  front  and 
"beard  the  lion  in  his  den." 

"O,  well,"  said  he,  "don't  get  mad.  I  only 
came  to  get  some  food,  for  which  I  was  willing  to 
pay  you  ;  but  if  you  are  not  disposed  to  let  me  have 
it  I  will  return  to  the  regiment  and  tell  the  officers 
about  you.  Perhaps  Mr.  Lincoln  will  want  to  see 
you  at  W^ashington  ;  at  any  rate,  the  colonel,  after 
hearing  what  you  have  just  said,  will  be  quite  will- 
ing to  send  a  guard,  and  escort  you  to  Washington 
charged  with  uttering  disloyal  sentiments." 

The  man's  appearance  immediately  changed.  His 
bravado  all  vanished  ;   and  in  a  much  more   humble 


7©  Will  Newton^ 

tone  of  voice  he  responded,  "Well,  well,  if  you 
wanted  food,  why  didn't  you  say  so  when  you  first 
came,  and  not  make  all  this  fuss  standing  there  talk- 
ing politics  with  me?  You  sit  down  here,  and  I 
will  go  in  and  see  about  your  supper." 

The  Virginian  bustled  away  to  have  some  food 
prepared. 

As  that  worthy  disappeared,  the  young    negroes 
gathered  nearer  to  where  Will  sat  upon  the  veranda, 
and  the  oldest  of  the  group,  a  jet-black  bright  look- 
ing boy  of  some  twelve  years    of  age,  asked    Will, 
"Am  you  a  Linkum  soger,  sah.^'" 

"Yes,  I  am,"  replied  Will. 

"Don't  quite  see  how  dat  am,  sah,"  responded 
the  little  darkey. 

"Why,"  demanded  Newton. 

"Case,  sah,  de  old  massa  whom  have  just  gone 
into  de  house,  told  'is  nigger  dis  day,  dat  de  dam 
Yankee  sogers  of  Linkum  all  had  horns  and  hoofs 
like  old  Satan  hisself,  and  dat  dey  would  kill  and 
eat  us  all,  if  dey  only  cotched  us  " 

Will  Newton  could  not  refrain  from  laughing 
outright,  as  he  saw  the  earnestness  of  the  little 
fellow,  and  the  fear  pictured  on  the  face  of  each 
one  of  the  children  who  stood  before  him.     He  had 


The    Young    Volunteer.  *]\ 

not  time  however,  to  disabuse  the  minds  of  the 
litttle  ones  before  him,  but  inquired  of  the  boy  if 
there  were  any  horses  in  the  barn. 

"Three,  sah  ;  but  don't  tell  de  ole  massa  dat  I 
told  you,  for  he  would  raise  de  very  debble  wid  dis 
chile  if  he  knowed  it." 

Further  conversation  was  here  interrupted  by  the 
host  who  reported  that  some  supper  was  ready  for 
the  guest. 

Will  Newton  entered  the  house  and  sat  down  to 
a  meal  of  fried  bacon,  corn-dodgers  and  milk.  It 
is  quite  needless  to  state  that  he  did  ample  justice 
to  the  meal.  Whole  battalions  of  the  corn  cakes 
disappeared  before  him  with  a  most  wonderful 
rapidity. 

As  he  was  thus  devouring  the  food,  and  during 
the  temporary  absence  of  the  host,  the  old  negress 
who  was  officiating  as  cook,  came  to  his  side  and 
pressing  her  bony,  wrinkled  hand  upon  his  head, 
murmured,  "De  Lord  bress  de  honey;  de  Lord 
bress  him." 

When  his  appetite  was  fully  appeased.  Will  paid 
for  his  supper,  and  carelessly  remarked,  —  "My  feet 
are  very  sore  ;  have  you  any  horses  in  your  barn  V^ 

"Not  a  horse,"  was  the  reply. 


72  Wy//   Newton^ 

Will  paid  no  attention  to  the  answer,  but  con- 
tinued,— "I^ave  to  go  a  long  distance  to-night,  it 
is  not  possible  for  me  to  walk.  I  know  that  you 
have  horses  in  your  barn  ;  let  me  have  one,  and  I 
will  return  him  safely  to  you  by  to-morrow  noon.'* 

"No,  sir !  I  won't  do  it,"  was  the  decided  answer. 

"Just  as  you  please,  sir  ;"  said  Newton.  "But  you 
need  not  be  surprised  if  a  squad  of  men  should 
come  and  take  all  your  horses  without  asking  your 
leave." 

Again  the  owner  of  the  house  was  sensibly 
affected,  and  replied,  "Well,  w^e  vs^ill  have  no 
trouble ;  I  believe  you  are  an  honest  kind  of  a 
fellow  if  you  are  a  Yankee,  and  I  will  let  my  man 
Sam  ride  with  you  to  bring  the  horse  back,  if  you 
will  promise  faithfully  to  treat  me  honestly  in  the 
matter." 

Newton,  of  course,  gladly  gave  the  desired 
promise,  and  soon  Sam,  a  stout  negro,  rode  around 
to  the  door  on  horse-back,  leading  another  horse 
upon  which  Will  was  to  ride.  He  paid  a  liberal 
price  for  the  accommodation,  bade  his  host  good 
night,  and  in  the  gathering  gloom  commenced  his 
ride  with  Sam  as  a  companion. 


,        The    young    Volunteer.  73 

The  night  was  dark,  and  their  advance  was 
necessarily  very  slow.  Newton  had  no' idea  of  the 
region  and  was  obliged  to  depend  upon  his  com- 
panion  to  lead  the  way. 

"To  what  place  do  you  think  we  had  better  go?" 
asked  Will. 

"Reckon  sah,  dat  de  Yanks  am  fell  back  towards 
Centerville"  replied  Sam. 

So  on  they  rode.  It  was  a  tedious  ride  for 
Newton, but  Sam  told  stories  about  hunting  possum, 
and  sang  plantation  songs  until  his  companion 
laughed  in  spite  of  all  his  misfortunes. 

The  hours  passed  slowly  away,  and  when  day- 
light dawned  they  were  in  the  midst  of  the  strag-^ 
glers  from  the  Federal  army.  On  every  hand  were 
evidences  of  the  terrible  defeat.  All  discipline  was- 
gone,  and  every  man  was  tramping  towards 
Washington  upon  ''his  own  hook,"  as  rapidly  as  he 
could  go. 

When  Will  Newton  found  himself  once  more 
with  thex^Union  army,  a  deep  sense  of  mortificatioi^ 
and  shame  oppressed  him  for  the  manner  in  which 
he  had  ran  from  the  battle  field  ;  and  when  at  noon 
he  found  the  remnant  of  his  regiment,  dismissed 
his   guide,   and   was   welcomed  by  his   old  friend, 


74  Will  Newton^ 

Bill  Logan,  that  feeling  weighed  upon  him  more 
keenly.  He  had  forgotten  the  fact  that  the  regi- 
ment had  fled  from  the  field  before  he  left  it. 

His  comrades  welcomed  him  as  one  returned 
from  the  dead  ;  for  they  thought  he  had  been  killed, 
or  taken  prisoner  by  the  enemy.  Many  of  the  men 
in  his  company  had  been  killed  or  wounded  ;  and 
quite  a  number  were  among  the  missing.  To  his 
great  joy,  he  found  that  his  tent-mate,  Bill  Logan, 
had  escaped  uninjured. 

While  exchanging  salutations,  a  message  was 
received  that  Will  Newton  was  wanted  immediately 
at  the  captain's  tent.  Oh,  now  !  thought  Will,  I 
am  in  for  it ;  but  I  deserve  it  all.  So  cow^ardly  in 
me  to  run  away  as  I  did !  and  with  a  downcast 
look  he  stood  before  his  captain. 

"Newton,"  said  the  latter,  "I  saw  your  conduct 
in  the  battle  yesterday,"  (I  deserve  all  that  is  com- 
ing, thought  Will.)  "and  I  must  say  that  I  was 
surprised"  continued  the  captain.  (I  don't  wonder 
that  you  were,  thought  Will.)  "Yes,"  continued 
the  captain,  "you  charged  upon  that  gun  like  a 
veteran.  I  believe  you  are  the  bravest  man  in  my 
company.  I  esteemed  you  highly  before,  but 
never  thought  you  had  such  courage.     To-night,  at 


The    Toung    Volu7iteer.  ^^ 

dress  parade,  your  name  will  be  read  as  being  pro- 
moted  to  a  sergeantcy  for  bravery  on  the   field   of 
battle.     How  does  that  suit  you?" 

"Oh,  captain,"  murmured  Will,  "I  am  not 
worthy  of  it.  Give  it  to  some  braver  and  more 
worthy  man,  for  I  ran  away  from  the  battle  and 
disgraced  myself  forever." 

"You  ran  away.^  I  should  think  you  did!  The 
last  I  saw  of  you  was  when  our  regiment  being 
flanked,  broke  and  ran.  You  was  out  on  the 
skirmish  line  makinor  straight  for  Richmond  on 
the  double-quick." 

"Oh,  well;  but  sir,  after  that  I  ran  the  other  way 
and  did  not  stop  until  sunset."  And  Will  gave  the 
captain  the  particulars  of  his  retreat,  and  the 
adventures  through  which  he  had  pased. 

"That  is  all  right,  my  boy,  you  were  not  to 
blame  for  running  when  you  had  to  face  the  whole 
Confederate  army  alone.  I  am  well  pleased  with 
your  behavior,  and  now.  Sergeant  Newton,  return 
to  the  company  and  do  all  in  your  power  to  assist 
in  re-organizing  the  men  ;  for  they  are  all  sadly 
demoralized." 

That  night,  when  the  company  marched  in  from 
dress   parade,    and  broke  ranks,  three   cheers  were 


76  W/H  Newton. 

given  for  Sergeant  Newton,  followed  by  a  rousing 
tiger  from  the  stalwart  lungs  of  Bill  Logan. 

Thus  ended  the  first  battle  of  our  young  volun- 
teer. And  that  night,  long  after  his  comrades  were 
asleep,  he  sat  by  the  little  camp-fire  and  wrote  a 
full  account  of  the  whole  aftair  to  his  friends  at  the 
Lamb  homestead,  in  the  village  of  Maplewood. 

When  the  epistle  had  reached  its  destination,  and 
had  been  read  for  the  third  time  by  our  old  friend 
Jerry,  he  closed  the  letter  and  prophesied, — ""That 
lad  will  be  a  gfeneral  before  the  war  is  over." 

One  of  the  first  duties  attended  to  1)y  Will  after 
he  returned  to  his  regiment,  was  to  write  a  long 
letter  to  ]Mrs.  Stacy,  in  Boston,  informing  her  of 
the  death  of  her  son,  and  also  giving  her  full  partic- 
ulars of  the  change  in  his  life,  and  the  tender 
message  to  her  breathed  from  his  dying  Hps. 

Thus  ended  the  first  battle  ;  and  its  vivid  and 
keen  sensations  of  pain  and  pleasure  made  so  deep 
an  impression  upon  Will's  mind,  that  all  succeeding 
events  and  conflicts  did  not  obliterate  them  from, 
his  memory.  e 


CHAPTER    IV. 

Winter  came,  and  with  it  also  came  heavy  storms 
of  rain  and  wind;  the  roads  were  impassable,  so 
that  armies  could  not  move,  and  the  troops  immedi- 
ately went  into  winter  quarters.  Little  huts  were 
built  of  logs  and  covered  with  canvas  cloth,  having 
within  a  small  fire-place  made  of  sods  and  sticks. 
They  were  neither  convenient  nor  elegant ;  but 
within  them  many  happy  hours  were  passed.  Will 
Newton  and  Bill  Logan  still  occupied  the  same 
tent,  and  were  almost  inseparable  companions. 

There    was  much    sickness  in  camp   during    the 
months   of  December    and   January,   and  Sergeant 
Newton  was  tireless  in  his  efibrts  to  look  after,  and 
care  for  the  sick    and  dying.     The  chaplain  of  the 
regiment  being  absent  from  his  post  on  account  of 
sickness,   there  was   no  one   whose  special   duty  it 
was  to  look    after   the   spiritual   wants    of  the  sick. 
Young  Newton  passed    hours  each  day  in  his  com- 
pany   reading     the    Bible,     writing    letters,     and 
o 


78  Will  Newton, 

conversing  with  sick  comrades.  This  fact  was 
soon  discovered  by  other  companies,  and  he  received 
many  calls  to  visit  the  suffering  outside  of  his  own 
immediate  comrades.  So  far  as  it  was  possible  for 
him  to  do  so,  he  answered  every  summons,  and 
went  like  a  ministering  angel  to  alleviate  suffering. 

One  day  he  was  called  to  visit  a  soldier  whom 
they  thought  was  dying.  When  Will  entered  the 
low  damp  tent,  he  was  much  impressed  with  the 
rare  beauty  of  the  frail  young  patient  before  him, 
lying  in  an  almost  helpless  condition  upon  the 
ground.  As  Newton  knelt  beside  him  and  gently 
brushed  back  the  chestnut  curls  from  his  brow,  the 
poor  fellow  gasped,  "Do  you  think  that  I  am 
dying?"  and  he  wept  like  a  child.  Will  soon  dis- 
covered that  the  invalid  had  no  one  to  care  for  hirn  ; 
the  surgeons  had  given  up  his  case  as  hopeless, 
and  he  had  thus  been  left  to  die.  Our  hero  quickly 
made  up  his  mind  as  to  the  course  of  action  he 
should  pursue.  He  left  the  invalid  and  hastened 
to  the  tent  of  the  commanding  officer  of  that  com- 
pany. ^ 

He  met  the  captain  at  the  door,  and  with  a 
salute  he  said,  "I  am  Sergeant  Newton  of  Co. —  ; 
there  is  a  yoiuig  man  in  your  com.pany  very  sick. 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  79 

The  surgeons  say  he  must  die  ;  but  I  think  that  if  I 
had  him  in  my  own  tent,  where  he  could  have 
proper  treatment,  he  would  recover.  Will  you  con- 
sent that  I  may  remove  him." 

The  officer  was  a  coarse,  profane  man  with  but 
little  of  the  "milk  of  human  kindness"  about  him, 
and  to  the  surprise  of  Will  answered,  '"No!  he 
shall  not  leav'e  the  company  unless  he  is  taken  to 
the    hospital." 

But  our  friend  was  not  discouraged  at  this  rebuff, 
and  hastening  to  the  surgeon  placed  the  matter 
before  him  ;  but  the  latter  hesitated,  fearing  that  it 
would  be  a  breach  of  military  courtesy  to  remove  the 
man  against  the  captain's  wishes. 

Then  Will  went  to  the  colonel  and  related  to 
him  all  the  fiicts  in  the  case.  As  the  colonel 
listened  to  the  eloquent  w^ords  of  the  thoroughly 
interested  advocate,  his  eyes  moistened,  and  before 
he  had  completed  his  story,  the  officer  interrupted 
him  by  saying,  "Come  wdth  me,  and  I  \vill  see  w^ho 
commands  this  regiment.  Orderly,  tell  the  surgeon 
to  accompany  me." 

Down  across  the  parade-ground, almost  at  a  double- 
quick  went  the  colonel,  the  surgeon,  and  Sergeant 
Newton.      The  former  knocked  at  the  door  of  the 


8o  Will  Newton, 

captain's  tent  until  the  whole  structure  shook, 
"Captain,  come  with  me,"  ordered  the  colonel,  and 
that  dum-founded  officer  could  only  obey. 

Will  led  the  way  to  the  little  tent  where  the 
sufferer  was  gasping  for  breath.  The  colonel,  with 
the  skill  of  a  veteran,  arranged  a  blanket  for  a  couch  ; 
tenderly  they  laid  the  sick  youth  upon  it,  and  order- 
ing the  surgeon  and  the  captain  to  carr}^  the  burden, 
he  and  Will  led  the  way  to  the  cheerful  tent  of 
the  latter,  where  the  sick  man  was  placed  upon  the 
soft  comfortable  bed. 

"There,  sergeant,"  remarked  the  colonel,  "do 
all  you  can  for  him  ;  and  surgeon,  you  will  visit 
this  tent  at  least  twice  each  day,  and  more  frequently 
if  you  are  sent  for.  Captain,  return  to  your  com- 
pany and  give  more  attention  to  your  sick  men,  or 
I  shall  be  compelled  to  ask  the  Governor  to  put  a 
better  man  in  command  of  your  company."  He 
gave  money  to  the  sergeant,  and  instructing  him  to 
call  at  his  tent  and  inform  him  how  the  patient  got 
along,  took  his  departure. 

Bill  Logan's  sympathies  were  at  once  enlisted  in 
behalf  of  the  sick  man,  and  he  rendered  most  effici- 
ent service  to  the  young  nurse.  Days  passed  before 
the  young  man  became  conscious,  and  it  was  a  long 


The   Tou7ig    Voluntec.}'.  8i 

time  before  he  could  fully  understand  where  he  was, 
and  how  he  came  to  be  there.  Rest  assured  that  he 
was  very  grateful  to  his  benefactor.  Will  prepared 
food  in  such  a  skillful  and  attractive  manner,  that  it 
•tempted  the  appetite  of  his  patient,  and  thus 
gradually  he  gained  strengtl  i  and  was  won  back  to 
life. 

There  was  something  mysterious  about  him  which 
Will  could  not  understand.     He  never  spoke  of  his 
family,  his  friends,  or  any  of  his  former  associates. 
He   never  received  any   letters,   and   so  far  as  any 
mention  of  his  former  life  was  concerned,  it  was  all 
a  blank.     He  was  evidently  about  twenty  years  of 
-age,  and  gave  signs  of  being  well  educated,  and  of 
having  moved  in  the  best  of  society.     Newton  w^as 
too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  ask  him  any  questions  ; 
but   he    often    wondered   about   the    young   man's 
former  history,  and  the  events  connected  with  his 
enlistment.  , 

They  were  sitting  together  alone  in  the  tent  one 
evening,  Bill  Logan  being  out  on  picket,  when  the 
young  man,  whose  name  was  John  Wright,  thus 
.addressed  his  benefactor:  "Newton,  I  am  to  return 
to  my  company  to-morrow.  I  am  indebted  to  you 
for  my  life,  and  I  feel  that  before  I    leave  you,  I 


82  Will  Newton^ 

should  tell  you  some  things  about  myself.  I  do  this 
in  justice  to  you  for  your  kindness  to  me  ;  and  I 
feel  that  it  will  be  a  great  relief  to  have  some  one 
to  share  with  me  my  secret  and  burden,  so  I  will 
tell  you  in  confidence  what  no  other  person  in  the 
regiment  knows.  My  true  name  is  not  John  Wright,, 
but  Harry  Temple.  My  family  who  reside  in  Lowell^ 
Mass.,  know  nothing  of  my  whereabouts,  or  even 
of  my  existence." 

Will  looked  much  surprised  at  this  revelation,  but 
motioned  for  his  companion  to  go  on. 

"My  father,"  he  continued,  "is  one  of  the 
wealthiest  merchants  in  that  city.  We  have  art 
elegant  home  ;  my  mother  and  sister,  together  with 
father  and  myself,  constitute  the  family.  I  was 
graduated  from  the  high  school  and  academy  when 
seventeen  years  of  age,  and  immediately  entered 
Harvard  College.  At  the  close  of  my  second  year 
in  college,  I  came  home  wanting  to  enlist.  My 
parents  and  sister  would  not  give  their  consent.  I 
TDecame  angry  and  dissatisfied  and  thought  my  lot 
in  life  a  hard  one.  At  college  I  had  learned  to 
drink  beer  and  smoke  cigars.  My  father  one  day 
saw  me  enter  a  saloon  ;  he  followed  me  and  found 
me  drinking  with  boon  companions.     That  night,. 


The    Yon 77 g    Volunteer.  S3 

when  I  returned  to  my  home,  he  gave  me  a  severe 
reprimand.  I  became  desperate,  and  possessed  with 
some  evil  genius,  I  arose  at  midnight,  silently  left 
the  house,  fled  from  the  city,  and  under  an 
assumed  name  enlisted  in  this  regiment,  which 
was  on  the  point  of  departure  from  the  State.  I 
have  never  heard  from  home  since  then.  They  of 
course  know  not  whether  I  am  living  or  dead." 

"Why  do  you  not  inform  them  where  you  are.^" 
questioned  Will. 

"I  do  not  want  to  do  that.  I  am  ashamed  to  let 
them  know  where  I  am  for  I  have  outragfed  and 
abused  them  so  much.  Had  it  not  been  for  your 
kindness,  I  should  have  died  and  no  trace  of  my 
identity  w^ould  have  remained  behind  me." 

"Do  you  like  a  soldier's  life?"  asked  Will. 

"I  should,"  said  the  Other,  "if  I  was  only  strong 
and  w^ell ;  but  I  am  not.  I  have  been  sick  all  the 
time  since  I  came  to  Virginia,  although  I  remained 
on  duty  until  within  a  few  days  before  you  found 
me." 

Will  was  silent  and  thoughtful,  he  was  convinced 
that  his  companion  was  too  delicate  to  endure  the 
hardships  of  a  soldier's  life ;  but  how  could  he 
secure    a   furlough  or   a   discharge   for    him }     He 


84  Will  Newton^ 

knew  that  he  had  nothing  to  hope  from  the  captain 
of  Harry's  company,  or  from  the  surgeon  of  the 
regiment.  He  thought  of  his  friend,  the  colonel, 
and  he  resolved  to  place  the  matter  before  him  on 
the  morrow. 

At  an  early  hour  on  the  following  morning,  he 
w^as  seated  in  the  colonel's  tent,  and  told  him  the 
wdiole  story  as  it  had  been  related  to  him  by  young 
Temple. 

"The  young  rascal!"  muttered  the  officer,  as 
Will  concluded  his  narrative.  "And  you  are 
satisfied  that  he  cannot  endure  the  hardships  and 
exposure  of  a  soldier's  life  are  you  ?" 

"I  am  sir,"  replied  Will. 

"Well,  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  send  him  home. 
I  will  arrange  the  matter  and  have  him  discharged 
on  account  of  disability.  Do  not  mention  the 
matter  to  him  ;  his  discharge  will  be  here  within  a 
day  or  tw^o." 

Will  returned  to  his  tent  just  in  time  to  say  "Good 
bye"  to  young  Temple  who  was  returning  to  his 
own  company.  As  their  two  company  streets  were 
but  a  short  distance  from  each  other,  they  promised 
to  exchange  visits  frequently. 


The    Vouiig    Volunteer.  %^ 

The  next  morning  after  Temple  returned  to  his 
■own  company,  he  was  detailed  to  go  on  picket  for 
three  days.  The  detail  without  doubt  was  brought 
about  by  his  captain  who  had  taken  a  special  dis- 
like to  him  ever  since  his  first  interview  with  Will 
Newton.  Temple  obeyed  the  order,  and  in  com- 
pany with  the  other  soldiers,  tramped  through  the 
mud  and  water  for  six  miles  to  the  picket  line.  On 
arriving  there,  he  was  so  feeble  that  the  officer  in 
command  of  the  line  excused  him  from  duty  for  the 
first  day. 

Sergeant  Newton  was  so  occupied  with  his  duties 
•that  he  did  not  find  an  opportunity  to  call  and  see 
his  friend  for  two  days.  In  the  meantime,  a  heavy 
storm  of  rain  and  snow  was  falling.  His  heart  was 
.filled  with  anxiety  for  his  friend.  As  he  hastened 
to  his  tent,  imagine  his  surprise  when  informed  that 
he  was  on  picket. 

He  indignantly  hastened  to  the  quarters  of  the 
orderly  sergeant  to  ask  why  such  a  detail  had  been 
made. 

''Well,  sir,"  said  that  official,  ''the  captain  said 
'include  Temple  in  your  picket  detail'  that  morning, 
and  you  know  I  had  to  obey." 


86  Will  Newton, 

Newton  then  called  at  the  captain's  tent  and  found 
that  worthy  engaged  in  playing  cards  with  a  brother 
officer.  A  canteen  and  two  glasses  were  beside 
them  on  the  table.  Newton,  with  all  the  civility 
that  he  could  muster  under  the  circumstances,  en- 
quired after  Temple. 

The  mention  of  that  name  was  sufficient  to  in- 
flame the  passions  of  the  captain,  and  bringing  his 
clenched  hand  down  on  the  table  with  force  enough 
to  make  the  canteen  and  glasses  jump,  he,  with  a 
terrible  oath,  demanded,  "Young  man,  who  com- 
mands this  company,  you  or  I?" 

Newton  saw  it-  was  no  use  to  reply,  so  turned 
away  and  went  in  search  of  the  surgeon.  To  reach 
the  tent  of  the  latter,  he  was  obliged  to  pass  the 
colonel's  tent.  As  he  was  in  the  act  of  passing,  he 
heard  that  officer's  voice  cry  out,  "Sergeant  New^ 
ton  !"    He  went  to  the  door  to  see  what  was  wanted. 

"Here  sergeant,"  said  the  colonel,  "is  Temple's 
discharge  ;  it  has  just  reached  headquarters." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad,"  cried  Will.  "The  poor  fellow 
is  out  on  picket  in  this  storm,  and  I  was  on  my  way 
to  the  surgeon's  tent  to  get  him  excused  from  duty 
if  it  was  possible." 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  87 

"On  picket!      How  came  he  there?"  sharply  de- 
manded the  colonel. 

"His  captain,  sir,  instructed  the  sergeant  to  detail 
him  ;  but  excuse  me,  sir,  I  must  hasten  with  this  ta 
the  picket  line." 

"You  surely  will  not  go  to-night?"  remarked  the 
other.     "It  is  six  miles  distant  and  it  is  almost  dark 


now." 


"Yes,  sir;  I  must  go.  Temple  is  so  delicate 
that  I  fear  that  he  will  perish  in  the  storm." 

"If  you  must  go,"  said  the  colonel,  "go  to  my 
orderly  and  get  two  horses ;  ride  one  out  and  lead 
the  other  for  Temple  to  ride  back  on." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  sir,"  replied  Will,  as  he  dashed 
around  the  tent  to  get  the  horses. 

It  was  after  dark,  and  poor  Temple,  sick,  discour- 
aged, broken-spirited  and  homesick,  sat  down  on 
his  lonely  beat,  for  he  was  unable  to  stand  during 
the  whole  two  hours  of  his  watch.  Deeply  he  re- 
gretted his  past  folly ;  his  heart  yearned  for  home. 
Oh  for  one  embrace  from  that  mother  and  sister  who 
were  doubtless  mourning  him  as  dead. 

He  was  aroused  from  these  sad  reflections  by 
some  one  stumbling  in  the  darkness  towards  where 
he  was  sitting.        True  to  his  training  as  a  soldier, 


8S  Will  Newtoii, 

he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  challenged  the  comer, — 
"Who  comes  there?" 

"Friend,  with  the  countersign,"  came  the  answer 
through  the  darkness.  "Harry,  it  is  I !"  shouted 
Will. 

"I  am  so  glad  you  have  come  ;  but  what  on  earth 
brought  you  out  here  at  this  time  of  night?" 

By  this  time  Will  had  reached  the  place  where 
his  friend  was  standing ;  he  could  restrain  his  joy 
no  longer,  but  throwing  his  arms  around  Temple's 
neck  he  burst  into  tears  and  cried,  "Oh  Harry,  would 
you  like  to  go  home?" 

At  the  sound  of  the  word  home.  Temple  also 
broke  down,  and  answered,  "Yes  ;  but  I  shall  die 
out  here.  I  know  that  I  shall  never  see  home  again. 
But  why  do  you  ask  me  that  ?" 

"Because,"  replied  Will,  "I  have  your  discharge 
in  my  pocket,  and  have  come  out  here  to  give  it  to 
jou.     You  are  your  own  man  now." 

Temple  was  completely  overcome.  He  sank 
down  upon  the  ground  and  sobbed  as  if  his  heart 
would  break,  and  continued  to  repeat,  again  and 
again,  "Oh  Will !  I  owe  it  all  to  you ;  how  shall  I 
£ver  repay  you  for  all  your  kindness." 


The    Toung    Volunteer,  89^ 

"There  is  just  one  way  you  can  pay  me,  Harry," 
remarked  Will,  in  a  low  tone  ;  "and  I  want  you  to 
promise  me  that,  right  here,  to-night." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  his  companion. 

"Promise  me  that  you  will  never  drink  any  liq- 
uor, smoke  any  tobacco,  or  use  any  profane  lan- 
guage from  this  time  ;  and  that  you  will  be  a  good 
son  and  brother." 

"I  promise,"  solem.nly  said  the  other. 

"Let  us  ask  God  to  help  you  keep  that  promise," 
said  Newton,  and  in  the  blinding  storm  in  the  solitary- 
hour  of  night,  those  friends  knelt  down  together,^ 
and  young  Newton  offered  a  touching  prayer  for  his 
companion,  that  he  might  have  strength  given  him 
to  fulfill  his  sacred  obligation. 

On  the  following  day.  Temple  bade  good  bye  to 
his  comrades  and  regiment.  Newton  accompanied 
him  as  far  as  Washington  to  take  passage  on  the 
afternoon  express  train  eastward-bound,  and  there  he 
bade  him  good  bye. 

A  few  days  later,  Sergeant  Newton  received  a 
letter  bearing  the  postmark  of  Lowell,  Mass.  It 
was  a  long  letter,  written  in  a  business  hand  and 
signed  by  Clarence  Temple.  That  gentleman  was 
Harry  Temple's  father.       The  latter  had  arrived 


90  Will  Newton., 

safely  at  his  home,  to  the  great  joy  of  his  family. 
The  letter  contained  many  expressions  of  gratitude 
for  Newton's  remarkable  kindness  to  young  Tem- 
ple, and  closed  with  something  like  the  following: 

"I  have  been  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  repay  you 
for  the  great  debt  we  owe  you,  and  have  determined 
to  do  it  in  a  manner  that  will  render  some  practical 
benefit  to  you.  I  trust  that  you  will  not  feel  insulted 
for  I  assure  you,  it  is  but  a  genuine  expression  of 
our  deep  gratitude  to  you.  I  have  this  day  placed 
two  thousand  dollars  to  your  credit  in  the  Mer- 
chant's bank  of  this  city,  and  enclosed  you  wall  find 
a  certificate  of  deposit  in  your  name  for  that  amount. 

Wishing  you  a  safe  return  to  your  friends,  and 
hoping  to  receive  a  visit  from  you  at  some  time,  I 
remain. 

Truly  yours,  ^ 

Clarence  Temple. 

For  a  time  Newton  could  not  speak ;  he  could 
hardly  think.  Two  thousand  dollars  and  all  his 
own  !  He  immediately  resolved  that  he  would  not 
keep  the  money,  feeling  that  he  had  returned  no 
just  equivalent  for  it.  He  found  his  old  friend  Bill 
Logan,  and  read  the  letter  to  him. 

"Keep  the  money  !"  said  Logan,  "Of  course  you 
will.  Mr.  Temple  will  feel  badly  if  you  do  not ; 
and  then  you  deserve  it.  But  it  does  beat  all ;  luck 
is  always  on  your  side.  I  have  sat  around  this  tent 
for  hours  and  watched  you  as  you  w^orked   for  that 


The   Toung-    Voluitteei'.  91 

young  Temple.  Day  and  night  you  worked  when 
I  knew  that  you  were  tired  and  sleepy,  and  some- 
times I  said  to  myself,  he  is  a  fool !  no  one  will  ever 
even  thank  him  for  all  his  trouble.  But  I  was  the 
fool,  and  you  are  now  well  repaid  for  all  your 
trouble  and  labor.  I  believe  that  in  the  end  it 
always  pays  to  do  the  honest  thing,  and  I  am  very 
o^lad  for  vou." 

'•Oh,  Bill,"  said  the  other,  "I  ought  not  to  have 
the  money  ;  the  thought  that  I  had  done  for  young 
Temple  as  I  would  want  him  to  do  for  me  under  a 
change  of  circumstances,  is  all  the  reward  that  I 
want." 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  replied  the  practical  Logan, 
*'but  if  you  should  live  to  return  home  from  the 
war,  that  two  thousand  dollars  woidd  do  more  to 
help  you  about  entering  business,  I  think,  than  all 
the  other  enjoyment  of  which  you  speak.  The  old 
gentleman  has  lots  of  money  no  doubt,  and  my 
advice  to  you  is.  keep  what  he  has  given  vou." 

After  much  reflection,  Newton  decided  to  keep 
the  magnificent  present,  and  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Temple  expressing  gratitude  for  his  kindness. 
He  also  wrote  to  Mr.  Lamb  in  Maplewood,  giving 
the  particulars  of  his  great,  good  fortune. 


92  Will  Newton, 

Farmer  Lamb  read  the  letter  aloud  from 
beginning  to  end,  three  times ;  then  crossing  his 
legs  and  folding  his  hands  with  the  wise  look^of  a 
philosopher,  he  gravely  remarked  :  ''Well,  it  does 
beat  all !" 


CHAPTER    V. 

As  we  have   stated  in  the  previous  chapter,  there 
vv^as  much  sickness  in  the  regiment  during  that  first 
winter  in  Virginia,   and  there  was  also   very  much 
w^ickedness.      Many  of  the   men  having   thrown  off 
the    restraint    of     Christian     society,     and    drawn 
together  as  they  were  in   large  masses,   without  the 
refining    influence    of    woman's    society,    indulged 
freely  in  many  sinful   practices   almost   unknown  to 
them  when  they  were  at  home.     Profanity  prevailed 
to  a  fearful  extent.     It  was    shocking:    to    hear  the 
fearful  oaths  used  in  common    conversation  by  the 
soldiers,   many   of  whom   had   not  passed  in  years 
beyond   the  limit  of  boyhood.     Will  Newton  was 
pained  to    notice,    that    in   his  own   company  there 
was  scarcely  a  man    who  did  not    indulge  freely  in 
this  wicked   and  foolish   habit.     x\ll  the  other  com- 
panies   in    the     regiment,     were    equally    as  bad. 
Gambling  became  alarmingly  common  as  a  pastime. 
Hours    and    days  were    spent   by   the    devotees   of 
cards  in   playing   these   various   games   of  chance. 


94  Will  Newton^ 

Men  would  play  until  their"  money  was  all  gone  ; 
then  pocket-knives,  tobacco,  pipes,  stockings,  shoes, 
and  other  articles  of  wearing  apparel  would  be  put 
up  as  stakes.  There  was  also  much  liquor  drank. 
The  orders  were  very  strict  against  selling  liquor 
to  enlisted  men ;  but  the  venders  of  this  article 
managed  to  smuggle  it  into  camp,  so  that  those  who 
drank  it  were  usually  Avell  supplied,  and  if  this 
source  of  evil  had  failed,  there  were  many  of  the 
officers  who  would  sign  orders  for  the  men  to  get 
the  poison  at  the  brigade  commissary. 

There  were  probably  but  few  regiments  in  the 
army  around  Washington  that  winter  more  com- 
pletely given  over  to  these  sinful  and  demoralizing 
practices,  than  that  of  which  Will  Newton  was  a 
member.  The  line  officers  were  nearly  all  in 
sympathy  with  the  condition  of  affairs,  and  were 
themselves  as  bad,  if  not  worse,  than  the  enlisted 
men.  Among  the  field  officers,  the  colonel  was  the 
only  one  who  was  an  exception  to  the  rule.  He 
was  very  temperate  in  all  his  own  habits,  but  en- 
tertained the  opinion  that  if  a  man  only  performed 
his  duty  faithfully  it  did  not  matter  much  what  he 
did  when  off  from  duty. 


The   Toung   Volunteer.  95 

Thus  matters  went  on,  rapidly  becoming  worse 
as  the  weeks  passed  away.  In  all  the  regiment  there 
was  nothing  to  counteract  the  influence  for  evil.  The 
chaplain,  from  whom  such  work  is  expected,  was 
absent  from  his  post,  and  there  was  no  one  to  per- 
form the  work  thus  left  undone.  This  state  of 
things  troubled  Will  Newton  very  much  ;  for  in  the 
midst  of  his  manifold  duties  and  all  his  labors  of 
love,  he  could  but  note  the  moral  condition  of  his 
comrades.  It  seemed  so  terrible  to  him  to  see  those 
men  organized  for  war,  a  large  proportion  ot  whom 
would  probably  fall  upon  the  battle  field  before  an- 
other campaign  should  close,  so  utterly  careless  as  to 
their  condition,  and  plunging  into  sin  at  such  a 
.    fearful  rate. 

In  his  own  mind  he  planned  many  methods  to 
improve  the  situation,  but  gave  them  all  up  as  use- 
Jess. 

One  day,  in  his  tent,  he  resolved  to  bring  the 
matter  before  his  old  friend.  Bill,  who  had  so  fre- 
quently advised  him  upon  matters  of  importance. 

''Tell  you,  it  is  of  no  use  to  try,"  replied  that  wor- 
thy. "I  know  what  human  natur'  is.  I  have  seen 
it  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  under  all  kinds  of  col- 
ors, and  I  tell  you  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  handle.   You 


(^G  Will  Newton^ 

may  preach  and  plead  and  waste  all  your  sympathy, 
but  human  natur'  will,  in  the  end,  have  its  own 
Avay.  When  it  wants  to  be  good,  it  is  all  right ; 
and  when  it  wants  to  be  bad,  it  is  bound  to  be  bad, 
and  you  may  just  as  well  be  satisfied.  If  a  man  is 
bound  to  go  to  satan,  why,  wish  him  well  and  let 
him  go.     That  is  my  motto." 

"Oh,  no,  it  isn't,  either,"  replied  Will.  "I  know 
you  too  well  to  believe  that ;  you  are  always  trying 
to  keep  men  from  doing  wrong.  Now  I  want  to 
tell  you  what  I  saw  this  forenoon.  I  went  up  to  see 
that  man  in  Company  B  who  has  been  sick  for 
several  weeks.  I  found  him  dying,  and  the  last 
words  that  he  uttered  as  I  sat  beside  him  were  ter- 
rible oaths  ;  cursing  God  because  he  was  to  die. 
At  his  tent  door  sat  the  fellows  who  had  tented  with 
him,  and  while  he  was  dying  they  were  playing 
cards,  drinking  whiskey  and  using  the  most  pro- 
fane language  that  I  ever  heard,  and  I  resolved  then 
and  there  that  something  should  be  done  to  make 
a  change  in  these  things." 

Bill  Logan  had  listened  very  attentively  to  the  re- 
marks of  young  Newton,  for  in  his  own  heart  he 
was  in  sympathy  with  the  position  taken  by  Will ; 
but  he  had  no  faith  that  anything  could  be  done  to 


The    Young    Volunteer.  97 

change  the  situation,  and  in  the  earnest,  practical 
manner  for  which  he  was  noted,  remarked,  ''All 
that  may  be  true,  lots  of  them  are  w^orse  than  the 
uncivilized  heathen  ;  but  what  do  you  think  that  you 
can  do?  I  know  you  have  lots  of  grit.  You  knocked 
poor  Bob  out  of  time  in  the  tent  that  Sunday  night, 
and  you  made  a  man  of  him  afterwards  ;  you  have 
done  wonders  in  the  regiment  and  made  every  one 
love  you  ;  you  charged  like  a  mad  elephant  on  that 
rebel  battery  at  Bull  Run.  I  know  you  are  quite  a 
chap  and  can  do  lots  of  things  that  other  men  bigger 
than  you  cannot  do  ;  but  my  advice  is,  let  this  job 
alone ;  for  when  you  undertake  to  reform  this 
drunken,  reckless  regiment,  you  have  taken  hold  of 
about  as  big  a  job  as  ever  was  contracted  for  since 
Joshua  led  the  Egyptians  dry-shod  across  the  Red 
sea.  Take  my  advice.  Look  out  for  number  one, 
and  let  every  one  else  do  the  same." 

Will  made  no  reply,  but  inwardly  resolved  to 
undertake  the  task  which  was  pressing  upon  his 
heart.  The  following  day  Bill  Logan  was  aston- 
ished to  hear  Will  ask  him  if  he  could  sing. 

''Sing.^"  replied  he.  "Well,  I  reckon  I  used  to 
grind  out  some  tunes  when  I  was  a  younger  man 
than  I  am  now.       I  remember  how  I  used  to  make 


98  Will   Newton^ 

the  forecastle  of  our  old  ship  echo  ;  lots  and  lots  of 
songs  I  used  to  sing." 

"And  when  you  was  a  boy,  I  suppose  you  used 
to  sing  hymns,  did  you  not?"  asked  Will. 

"I  should  rather  say  I  did,"  replied  the  unsus- 
pecting Logan. 

"They  used  to  say  then,  that  I  was  a  clipper. 
Sundays  they  would  put  me  up  in  the  church 
gallery  with  the  choir,  and  I  didn't  play  second  fid- 
dle to  any  of  them,  either.  I  would  spread  every 
inch  of  canvas,  open  my  mouth  wide,  and  let  her 
run.  The  old  ladies  all  said  that  I  would  be  a  par- 
son when  I  became  a  man  ;  but  I  have  not  seen  any 
symptoms  of  that  since  I  began   to  follow  the  sea."" 

"It  has  been  a  long  time  since  then,"  said  New- 
ton, "but  of  course  you  have  not  forgotten  those 
hymns  yet." 

"Never  shall  forget  them,  sir,"  replied  the  other. 
"I  think  of  them  every  day,  and  sometimes  I  can 
almost  see  the  old  parson  and  the  congregation 
again."     - 

"T  am  so  pleased  to  know  that,"  continued  New- 
ton ;  "for  I  was  down  to  the  head-quarters  of  the 
Christian  Commission  this  morning,  and  they  gave 
me  lots  of  hynm  books,  and  this  evening  I  am  pro- 


The    Tcnuig    Volufiteer.  99- 

posing  to  get  some  of  the  men  to  come  into  our 
tent  to  have  a  meeting,  and  I  want  you  to  do  the 
singing." 

Bill  Logan  was,  for  a  moment,  a  most  abject  and 
pitiful  looking  man,  for  he  saw  that  his  friend  had 
very  adroitly  got  the  advantage  of  him  ;  but  being 
determined  to  escape  from  his  predicament,  he  be- 
gan, ""Impossible!  sergeant,  impossible!  I  never 
used  to  sing  any  thing  but  songs  ;  and  they  were 
about  such  men  as  Robert  Kidd  and  other  old  pi- 
rates. They  would  hardly  be  the  thing  in  a  meeting 
I  reckon." 

"Oh  !"  said  Will,  "but  you  just  confessed  that  you 
sang  in  church,  and  that  they  thought  you  would 
one  day  be  a  minister  ;  perhaps  you  may,  who  can 
tell." 

"But,"  pleaded  Logan,  "my  throat  is  all  out  of 
order,  and  I  have  forgotten  all  the  old  hymns,  and 
I  won't  learn  any  of  them  new  fangled  'fol  de 
rols'  that  they  call  hymns  in  these  times.  No  I 
won't !" 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  Will.  "In  these  books 
you  will  find  the  same  hymns  and  tunes  you  sang 
thirty  years  ago.  I  know  you  will  sing,  for  you 
never  refuse  to   do  anything  that  I  ask  you  to  do  ; 


lOO  Will   New  to  71^ 

so  look  over  the  book    and   get  ready    for  meeting. 
I  will  go  out  and  invite  the  congregation  to  come." 

'*ril  be  blovved*,"  soliloquized  Bill  when  he  was 
left  alone.  ''I  was  never  so  completely  sold  in  my 
life  before,  guess  I  must  be  losing  my  faculties  ;  why 
didn't  I  take  the  hint  when  that  rascal  was  asking 
about  my  singing.  If  I  had  not  been  a  fool  I 
would  have  known  that  something  was  in  the  wind. 
If  it  had  been  any  live  man  except  Will  Newton,  I 
believe  I  would  have  thrashed  him  on  the  spot ;  but 
that  fellow  is  as  good  as  an  angel,  and  if  he  says 
sing,  I  may  just  as  well  sing,  no  matter  how  big  a 
fool  I  make  of  myself,  for  he  will  always  have  his 
own  way.  But  I  wnll  get  even  with  the  i^ascal  for 
this,  sometime,  or  else  my  name  is  not  Bill 
Logan." 

Evening  came.  Great  preparations  had  been 
made  in  Will's  tent  for  the  proposed  meeting.  The 
tent  itself  was  larger  than  the  average,  and  thus 
afforded  superior  advantage  for  the  gathering. 
Four  persons  could  sit  upon  the  edge  of  the  berth 
or  bed  which  filled  nearly  one-half  of  the  tent ; — 
four  more  could  sit  on  the  rough  bench  that 
extended  along  beside  the  table,  and  a  few  others 
could  sit  on  two  hard-bread  boxes  which  had  been 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  loi 

placed  on  the  tent  floor.  Two  or  three  could  stand 
or  sit  in  the  door-way,  and  as  Bill  Logan  remarked, 
''There  was  room  for  quite  a  number  outdoors." 
As  there  was  no  gallery  for  the  choir  to  occupy, 
Will  had  placed  an  empty  hard-bread  box  upon  the 
bed,  and  after  much  persuasion  had  succeeded  in 
getting  Bill  Logan,  hymn  book  in  hand,  to  take  a 
seat  upon  it. 

The  little  tent  was  soon  filled  with  the  invited 
ofuests  :  among-  them  were  some  of  the  most  wicked 
men  in  the  company.  There  was  also  quite  a 
crowd  of  men  on  the  outside. 

Will  very  modestly  introduced  the  exercises  by 
explaining  the  object  of  the  meeting.  He  had 
thought  that  perhaps  they  would  enjoy  a  meeting  of 
that  kind  once  in  a  while,  more  than  they  would  the 
games  and  methods  of  entertainment  which  they 
had  become  so  accustomed  to.  He  also  informed 
them  that  Bill  Logan  had  consented  to  lead  the 
singing,  and  that  he  wanted  them  all  to  assist.  For 
several  moments  Bill  had  been  making  frantic 
efforts  to  clear  his  throat,  and  at  the  proper  moment 
he  threw  back  his  head,  expanded  his  lungs,  and 
in  a  deep,  heavy  voice  began  that  old  hymn, 
"There's    a  land    that  is   fairer  than    day."     When 


I02  Wi'll  Newton^ 

the  chorus  was  reached,  to  the  delight  of  Will,  a 
large  portion  of  the  congregation  joined  in  the 
singing ;  and  they  went  through  with  the  whole 
hymn,  as  Bill  Logan  afterwards  said,  ^'like  a 
typhoon  on  the  Indian  Ocean."  When  the  hymn 
was  closed,  the  choir  looked  down  on  the  leader 
and  congregation  with  a  look  of  self  satisfaction, 
as  if  it  said,  "what  do  you  think  of  that."  Will 
then  read  the  one  hundred  and  third  Psalm,  and 
offered  a  prayer  to  which  the  congregation  listened 
with  the  most  profound  respect.  That  was  followed 
by  more  singing,  and  thus  a  whole  hour's  time  was 
passed,  to  the  enjoyment  of  all  present.  As  the 
exercises  were  about  to  close,  a  tall,  dark-featured, 
sharp-eyed  fellow,  whose  name  was  Dan  Eliott, 
arose.  Will  was  much  concerned  in  mind  as  he 
saw  him  rising  to  his  feet,  for  Eliott  was  well 
known  as  the  most  desperate  man  in  the  whole 
regiment.  He  w^as  one  of  the  famous  old  forty- 
niners,  who,  in  that  year,  went  to  California  in 
search  of  gold.  He  was  a  very  gentlemanly  appear- 
ing man,  but  a  desperate  gambler,  reckless  to  the 
last  degree  ;  a  dead  shot  with  the  revolver,  and  it 
was  whispered  among  the  men,  that  more  than  one 
victim  had  fallen  before  his  unerring  aim. 


The   Young    Volunteer,  103 

When  once  upon  his  feet,  he  addressed  the  com- 
pany like  this: — "Gentlemen,  our  host  is  a  white 
man.  It  was  very  thoughtful  in  him  to  arrange 
this  meeting  for  our  entertainment.  I  have  been  in 
all  sorts  of  fandangoes  between  the  Atlantic  and 
Pacific,  and  am  ready  to  stake  my  pile  that  as  an 
entertainment  it  has  been  a  success.  And  gentle- 
men, I  propose  that  we  not  only  thank  Sergeant 
Newton  for  what  he  has  done,  but  invite  him  to 
continue  his  show  in  the  future." 

"Agreed,  agreed  !"  the  men  all  cried  out,  and  so 
it  was  understood  that  the  meetings  should  be  con- 
tinued. After  the  congregation  had  dispersed, 
Will  asked  Logan  what  he  thought  of  it.  The 
latter  could  only  groan,  "You  do  beat  the  vs^orld." 
"But  it  was  not  me  at  all,  persisted  Will,  it  was 
your  singing.  I  never  heard  such  music.  Why,  the 
whole  choir  and  congregation  at  Maplewood  could 
not  do  half  as  well." 

Early  the  following  morning  Sergeant  Newton 
was  seen  calling  at  the  colonel's  tent.  "What  can 
I  do  for  you,  sir.^"  said  that  officer. 

Will  laid  his  plans  before  him  and  asked  if  there 
was  not  some  tent  that  he  could  borrow  to  hold  the 
meetings  in.    The    colonel  thought  a  moment,  and 


I04  Will   Newton^ 

answered,  "Yes,    I    have  a    large    tent  that  will  be 

just  the  thing ;  but  where  will  you  have  it  pitched?'* 

"At  the  end  of  our  company  street  near  my  own 
tent,  sir,"  said  Will. 

The  large  wall  tent  was  soon  put  up  in  the  desired 
location,  and  before  night  came  the  preliminary 
arrangements  were  all  perfected.  Seats  enough  to 
accommodate  fifty  persons  had  been  arranged.  Will 
had  purchased  candles  to  illuminate  it  in  grand 
style,  hymn  books  had  been  obtained  to  furnish  all 
the  people  who  came.  Bill  Logan,  and  a  few  other 
singers  whose  services  had  been  secured,  occupied 
elevated  seats  in  one  corner  of  the  tent,  while  Will, 
the  leader,  occupied  a  seat  in  front  of  the  audience. 
The  exercises  were  much  the  same  as  on  the  previous 
evening  ;  only  the  singing  was  much  more  general. 

As  these  were  drawing  to  a  close,  Dan  Eliott 
again  arose,  walked  to  the  front  and  remarked, 
"Gentlemen,  the  evening's  entertainment  has  been 
first-class,  and  this  show  must  be  continued.  But 
there  is  some  expense.  Now,  I  propose  that  we 
gentlemen  anti  up  one  hundred  dollars,  and  put  it 
in  the  hands  of  the  manager,  Sergeant  Newton,  to 
expend  for  such  articles  of  general  amusement  as  he 
may  think  proper.     What  do  you  say  gentlemen.?" 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  105. 

A  yell  of  approval  from  the  entire  crowd  of  men 
showed  that  they  were  all  in  favor  of  it.  But  by 
this  time  Will  Newton  was  upon  his  feet.  "1  had 
rather  you  would  not  raise  the  money,  comrades," 
said  he;  ''but  if  you  insist  upon  doing  that,  let  it 
be  for  another  object.  I  can  easily  pay  these  bills, 
but  as  there  are  many  sick  men  in  the  regiment  why 
not  spend  this  money  in  purchasing  some  delicacies 
for  them?" 

But  Dan  Eliott  was  not  to  be  thwarted,  "Don't 
straddle  my  blind  too  quick,  partner,"  he  rejoined. 
"I  reckon  this  institution  is  able  to  have  two  funds ; 
one  of  them  literary  or  religious,  whichever  you 
see  fit  to  call  it,  and  the  other  a  charitable  fund. 
If  the  gentlemen  in  the  audience  will  anti  up  the 
first  hundred,  and  pass  the  buck  to  me,  I  will  chip 
the  second  hundred." 

"Done  !  Done  !"  cried  a  score  of  voices. 

The  first  hundred  dollars  was  speedily  raised, 
and  then  the  gambler  drew  a  large  roll  of  bills  from 
his  pocket,  coolly  counted  ofi"  another  hundred,  and 
handing  it  to  Sergeant  Newton,  said,  — "Let  every 
thing  be  done  first-class  sergeant ;  you  can  have 
more  funds  if  they  are  needed." 


io6  Will  Newton^ 

Will  was  delighted  to  have  the  money  to  be  ex- 
pended for  the  sick  and  suflering  men,  and  as  he 
returned  to  his  tent  he  was  estimating  how  much 
comfort  it  would  afford  them. 

There  was  a  meeting  held  in  the  chapel  tent  every 
evening  for  many  weeks.  A  strange,  mysterious 
power  began  to  effect  the  men.  Will  Newton  found 
that  his  heart  was  strangely  drawn  towards  those 
who  gathered  in  the  meetings.  His  prayers  became 
more  urgent  and  direct  that  God  would  bless  and 
save  them  from  sin.  His  words  to  them  became 
urgent  appeals  to  live  different  lives ;  and  as  they 
listened,  the  men  were  greatly  affected.  On  the 
fourth  evening,  one  man  arose  and  said,  "Com- 
rades, at  home  I  was  a  Christian  man.  When  I 
entered  the  army  I  laid  aside  my  religion  ;  since 
then  I  havebeen  very  wicked  and  wandered  faraway. 
I  am  ashamed  of  myself.  I  arise  to  confess  my 
w^rong  doing.  From  this  time  I  shall  endeavor  to 
lead  a  different  life." 

The  ice  was  now  broken,  and  not  a  meeting  was 
held  from  that  evening  but  what  one  or  more  men 
expressed  a  desire  to  live  a  new  life.  There  was  a 
great  change  in  the  regiment ;  cards,  whiskey  and 
profanity  suddenly  disappeared,  and  in    their  stead 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  107 

were  testaments,  prayers,  meetings  and  hymns  of 
praise.  And  the  spiritual  interest  in  the  meetings 
increased.  The  tent  was  not  large  enough,  and  two 
others  of  equal  size  were  erected  so  that  the  three 
could  be  included  in  one.  All  three  were  crowded. 
Many  of  the  officers,  including  the  colonel, 
frequently  attended  the  meetings.  Sometimes  in  a 
single  evening  there  would  be  several  conversions. 
Men  flocked  there  from  other  commands.  Chaplains 
from  other  regiments  often  attended  the  meetings. 
Will  Newton  conducted  all  the  exercises,  while  Bill 
Logan  and  his  select  choir  led  in  the  singing.  The 
congregation  would  not  listen  to  any  change  being 
made  in  either  department. 

One  night  the  interest  and  power  was  remarkable. 
Several  hardened  cases  arose  and  asked  an  interest 
in  the  Christian's  prayers,  when  to  the  joy  of  all, 
Dan  Eliott,  who  had  been  a  faithful  attendant  and 
supporter  from  the  beginning  of  the  meetings  arose, 
and  thus  addressed  his  listeners  :  "Gentlemen,  I 
always  play  a  fair  game  and  demand  an  honest  deal 
on  the  part  of  my  opponent.  I  don't  believe  in 
spotting  the  deck  or  hiding  cards.  I  always  anti 
when  it  is  my  turn  and  make  no  chin  music.  If  I 
lose  a    pile   it  is    all  right   providing  I    am  playing 


lo8  Will  JVewlon, 

with  a  white  man  ;  if  I  am  not,  then  tlie  best  man" 
takes  the  pile.  I  have  been  a  spectator  of  this  show 
from  the  word  go,  and  have  watched  the  cards  as 
they  have  been  deah  out.  I  am  satisfied  that  it  has 
been  an  honest,  straight  game.  I  know  what  I 
ought  to  do  and  I  don't  propose  to  bluff  the 
Almighty.  The  stakes  are  too  great  to  allow  much 
fooling.  These  gentlemen  have  nearly  all  become 
Christians  and  I  am  resolved  to  follow  suit.  I 
want  you  to  pray  for  me," — and  here  the  hardened 
sinner  sobbed  like  a  child. 

That  was  a  great  night  in  the  regiment.  The 
bugle  did  not  sound  for  roll-call ;  the  drummers 
forgot  to  beat  the  tattoo.  It  was  midnight  before 
the  meeting  closed,  and  at  that  time,  Dan  EHott,  the 
gambler,  had  found  the  pearl  of  great  price. 

The  good  work  continued  all  through  the  winter 
and  early  spring.  Its  effects  were  visible  every- 
where. The  hospital  or  charity  fund  was  so 
frequently  replenished  that  it  did  not  become 
exhausted,  although  countless  delicacies  were  pur- 
chased and  carried  to  all  the  sick  men  in  the  regi- 
ment. 

A  few  weeks  before  they  were  to  break  camp  in 
the  spring,  a  chaplain  from  an  adjoining  regiment 


The    7'oiing    Volunteer.  109 

came  over  and  preached  to  the  men  one  beautiful 
Sabbath  afternoon,  and  at  the  close  of  the  sermon 
over  fifty  of  the  converts  received  the  ordinance  of 
baptisin. 

After  these  exercises  were  closed,  Will  Newton 
and  Bill  Logan  were  in  their  tent  talking  over  the 
w^onderful  results  seen  in  the  moral  transformation 
of  the  regiment.  ••What  do  you  think  of  it.  Bill?" 
queried  Ne\vton.  "What  I  have  seen,"  answered 
Bill,  "has  convinced  me  with  tolerable  certaint\'  of 
two  things  :  The  first  is,  that  when  you  asked  my 
advice  about  the  meetings,  I  was  a  perfect  fool ; 
and  the  other  is,  that  you  never  get  beat.  Whatever 
you  undertake,  goes." 

"Oh,  not  so,"  replied  Will.  "The  only  lesson  I 
have  learned  from  the  whole  matter  is  this  ;  that  the 
most  insisfnificent  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God 
can  accomplish  great  things.  There  is  no  more 
credit  to  be  given  me,  Bill,  than  there  is  to  you  ;  for 
your  singing  did  more  to  make  the  meetings  a 
success  than  anything  I  could  do." 

"Well,  perhaps  so,"  said  the  other.  "But  credit 
for  that  singing  is  due  you,  for  I  never  vv^ould  have 
sang  a  hymn  if  you  had  not  got  to  w^indward  of  me  ; 
and  I  never  should   have  mounted  that  hard  bread 


no  Wzli  Newton. 

box  in  the  first  meeting,  if  it  had  not  been  for  you. 
So  the  credit  is  all  yours."  "I  will  tell  you  a 
better  way,"  solemnly  replied  Newton.  "We  will 
give  all  the  credit  to  God,  to  whom  it  belongs,  and 
let  us  resolve  in  the  future  always  to  serve  him  as 
best  we  can.  And  the  two  comrades  knelt  together 
beside  their  rude  bed  and  earnestly  prayed  that 
God  would  consecrate  their  lives  fully  to  himself. 


.^-^ 


CHAPTER    VI. 

The  month  of  March  in  1S63,  was  a  very  busy 
period  in  the  camp  of  the  army  of  the  Potomac.  A 
great  campaign  was  soon  to  open,  and  the  officers 
were  verv  anxious  to  have  the  soldiers  in  the  best 
fighting  trim  possible.  Drills,  inspections  and 
reviews  were  the  order  of  the  day.  There  was  a 
very  strong  competition  among  the  regimental  com- 
manders to  see  whose  regiment  should  appear  in  the 
best  condition,  and  do  the  best  service  in  the 
coming  campaign. 

One  night,  Will  Xewton  received  a  summons  to 
the  colonel's  tent,  where  he  had  a  Ions:  conversa- 
tion  with  that  officer.  "Sergeant,"  remarked  the 
colonel,  '"there  is  no  man  in  the  regiment  who  has 
so  much  moral  influence  over  the  men  as  vou 
have.  That  is  conceded  by  all  the  officers,  and 
now  I  have  a  fa^"or  to  ask  of  you.  Undoubtedly 
w'e  shall  soon  zo  to  fields  of  strife.  I  desire  above 
all  things  else  to  have  this  regiment  do  the  most 
eflective     work    of    any    in    this     corps    when    we 


112  Will  Ne-wton., 

are  there.  I  am  a  young  man  to  hold  the  position 
that  I  occupy,  but  I  am  resolved  to  lead  these  men 
to  victory  and  honor,  or  to  death.  In  your  associa- 
tions vv^ith  the  men,  I  want  you  to  urge  upon  them 
individually,  the  importance  of  obedience,  coolness, 
resolution  and  braverv  on  their  part.  Sho\v  them 
how  little  it  is  to  sacrifice  every  thing,  even  life 
itself,  if  bv  makinsf  such  sacrifices  thev  can  honor 
the  flag  and  win  a  glorious  name." 

Will,  of  course,  was  willing  to  do  any  thing  con- 
sistent with  duty  :  and  thus  the  two  men,  forgetting 
for  a  time  the  ditierence  in  their  rank,  discussed  this 
subject  of  such  vital  importance  to  them  both.  The 
colonel  in  the  course  of  the  con\'ersation  told  Will 
much  of  his  earlv  life.  He  was  a  member  of  a 
wealthv  familv.  His  father  had  secured  his  com- 
mission, and  he  \vas  anxious  for  an  opportunity  to 
show  that  he  was  worthy  of  it.  At  the  battle  of 
Bull  Run  he  had  displayed  great  bravery,  but  he 
was  longing  for  other  fields  where  he  could  help 
regain  the  laurels  lost  in  that  terrible  defeat. 
Newton  was  also  informed  that  he  was  engaged  to 
be  married  to  a  beautiful  and  accomplished  young 
lady,  and  that  at  the  close  of  the  next  summer's 
campaign  the  ceremony  was  to  be  performed. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  113 

As  he  was  about  to  retire,  Will  remarked, 
•^ 'Colonel,  you  will  jd^^i'^^^o^"^  i^V  seeming  imperti- 
nence, but  I  am  deeply  interested  in  your  welfare. 
Have  you  never  felt  in  your  heart  that  you  ought  to 
be  a  Christian  ?"  For  a  moment  the  officer  was 
silent,  and  then  replied,  "Sergeant,  I  will  answer 
you  candidh'.  I  have  thought  of  this  matter  very 
much  since  your  meetings  began  ;  at  times  I  have 
almost  decided  to  take  a  stand  with  you,  but 
obstacles  of  which  vou  know  nothinsr  have  been  in 
the  way  ;  yet  there  has  not  been  a  night  during  the 
past  two  months  but  what  I  have  bowed  before 
God  and  asked  him  to  lead  me  in  the  path  of  truth. 
I  believe  that  mv  pravers  have  been  heard,  and  that 
I  have  been  gradually  drawing  nearer  to  God.  I 
have  never  experienced  that  peace  of  which  so 
many  of  you  speak  ;  perhaps  I  have  been  so  great  a 
sinner  that  such  joy  is  not  for  me ;  but  I  am 
determined  to  let  God  lead  me  in  the  future." 

"I  am  very  thankful  to  know  this,  colonel,"  said 
the  other.  "And  now  as  I  am  about  to  leave,  are 
you  willing  to  kneel  \\'ith  me  in  pra^^er.^"  Silently 
the  tw^o  young  men  bowed  down  together.  Earnestly, 
and  with  a  full  heart.  Will  Newton  prayed  for  his 
companion,  that  God  ^vould  lead  him  out  into  the 


114  ^  ^^^  Newton, 

light ;  that  an  assurance  should  be  given  him  that 
Jesus  had  accepted  him.  There  came  a  groan  and 
sob  from  the  colonel's  breast.  For  a  m.oment,  Will 
did  not  understand  its  import,  but  the  other,  with  a 
shining:  face  and  tearful  eves  exclaimed,  "Oh!  I 
havx  found  him  !  He  has  come  !  Such  peace, — It  is 
Heaven.  Glory  be  unto  the  name  of  Jesus  for 
ever  and  ever  ;" — and  from  that  hour  he  w^as  a  man 
of  God. 

Diligently  did  Sergeant  Newton  attend  to  the 
delicate  duties  assigned  him  by  his  colonel,  and  the 
result  of  his  labor  was  soon  visible  among  the  inen. 
There  was  much  enthusiasm  apparent  in  each 
company,  and  every  man  endeavored  to  put  himself 
in  the  best  possible  condition  for  the  coming  conflict. 
They  no  longer  regarded  the  war  as  an  affair  with 
w^hich  they  were  but  indirectly  connected,  but  that 
it  was  their  own  personal  matter  ;  and  that  honor, 
inanhood,  country,  every  thing,  was  at  stake. 
They  welcomed  the  drill  and  rigid  discipline  which 
soldiers  so  often  detest,  because  they  knew  that  it 
would  make  them  more  effective  in  the  hour  of 
battle.  In  the  prayers  offered  in  their  tents,  as 
well  as  those  uttered  in  more  public  places,  they 
asked  the  great  Giver  of  all  good  to  remember  the 


llie    young    'Volunteer.  115 

cause  for  which  tliey  were  to  fight,  and  inspire  thein 
with  courage  for  the  trying  ordeal. 

To  the  great  dehght  of  the  patriotic  and  ambitious 
young  colonel,  it  was  officially  announced  from 
Division  Headquarters  that  his  regiment  was  the 
best  drilled,  and  under  the  finest  discipline  of  any 
in  the  entire  Division.  He  called  Sergeant  New^ton 
to  his  tent,  and  with  his  characteristic  generosity 
said,  '"Much,  very  much  of  the  credit  is  due  to 
you." 

"Not  at  all,  sir,"  replied  Newton. 

"Tut,  tut,"  said  the  colonel.  "Do  not  deny  it; 
those  meetings  you  held  were  the  means  in  God's 
hands  of  transforming  the  whole  regiment.  I  never 
saw  such  a  change  take  place  among  men  in  my 
life.  I  would  not  have  believed  that  it  was  possi- 
ble." 

"Then  we  will  give  God  all  the  thanks," 
remarked  Newton. 

"I  understand  that,"  replied  the  other.  "But  you 
were  the  agent  by  which  He  worked,  and  your 
faithfulness  and  zeal  made  it  possible  for  Him  to 
accomplish  great  things.  I  shall  always  remember 
you  wdth  feelings  of  great  gratitude." 


ii6  Will  Newt o7i^ 

A  few  davs  before  the  regiment  was  to  break 
camp,  the  intelhgence  came  that  they  were  to  be 
honored  by  a  visit  from  the  Governor  of  their  State, 
and  great  preparations  were  made  for  a  fine  display 
of  their  soldierly  qualities  before  their  chief  magis- 
trate. The  fact  of  his  comino-  was  a  sfreat  event  to 
Will  Newton.  As  he  had  never  seen  the  Governor 
of  his  State,  he  possessed  a  great  desire  to  look 
upon  one  for  whom  he  had  so  great  a  regard. 

Upon  his  arrival,  the  Governor  was  received  with 
great  demonstrations  by  the  regiment,  and  on  the 
following  day  there  was  drill,  review  and  dress  pa- 
rade. The  distinguished  gentleman  was  highly 
pleased  with  the  fine  appearance  of  the  men,  and 
publicly  complimented  them  for  their  soldierly  bear- 
ing. Sergeant  Newton  v^^as  notified  l)y  an  orderly 
that  he  must  report  at  the  colonel's  tent,  and  sup- 
posing that  there  was  duty  to  perform  that  had  been 
overlooked,  hastened  tliither  ;  but  to  his  great  sur- 
prise he  was  invited  to  enter  the  tent  and  introduced 
to  the  Governor  himself.  The  colonel  in  present- 
ing him  to  the  Governor,  pleasantly  remarked, — 
•• 'Sergeant  Newton  has  been  our  genius  for  good.  I 
cannot  say  too  much  in  his  praise,  or  give  him  too 
much   credit  for  the  assistance  he  has  rendered  me 


The    T'oung    Volu7iteer.  117 

in  bringing  my  regiment  to  that  point  of  discipline 
which  you  have  witnessed.  The  Governor,  notic- 
ing the  embarrassment  of  the  young  sergeant  in 
being  thus  complimented,  skillfully  turned  the  con- 
versation into  another  channel.  He  enquired  about 
his  early  boyhood,  his  native  town,  and  many  other 
subjects  of  great  interest  to  Will,  who  was  com- 
pletely captivated  by  the  pleasing  address  of  the 
Governor. 

A  delightful  hour  was  thus  passed  and  Will 
Newton  arose  to  depart.  The  Governor  also  arose, 
and  drawing  a  large  official  document  from  his 
breast  pocket,  handed  it  to  the  sergeant  with  this 
remark, — ''I  heard  of  you  before  I  left  home,  ser- 
geant. When  you  return  to  your  quarters,  open 
this  envelope  and  you  w'iU  find  a  small  testimonial 
of  my  regard  for  you  ;  and  may  God  bless  you  and 
all  the  men  in  the  great  sacrifices  you  are  making 
for  your  country." 

"Delightful,  noble  old  man,"  mused  Will  New- 
ton ;  "so  thoughtful  to  bring  me  this  little  testimo- 
nial. No  matter  wliat  it  may  be,  I  shall  preserve 
it  as  if  of  the  greatest  value." 

He  entered  his  tent  and  carelessly  opened  the 
great   envelope.     He  looked.     W^hat  I    did  he  read 


ii8  Wi'll   Neivton^ 

it  correctly?  No,  he  must  be  mistaken.  A  com- 
mission !  Sergeant  William  Newton,  promoted  for 
bravery  and  good  conduct,  to  a  second  lieutenant ! 
He  was  about  to  reveal  the  tidings  to  Bill  Logan, 
when  the  latter  was  informed  that  the  captain  wished 
him  for  a  moment. 

Within  the  envelope  Will  found  also  an  autograph 
letter  written  by  the  colonel  to  the  Governor,  and 
signed  by  every  commissioned  officer  in  the  regi- 
ment, asking  for  the  promotion  of  Sergeant  Newton. 
This  was  a  greater  surprise  than  the  commission 
itself,  and  the  two  about  upset  the  equilibrium  of 
the  young  man. 

Bill  Logan  now  entered.  "Bill,  look  at  this!" 
exclaimed  Will,  holding  the  commission  and  letter 
towards  him. 

"I  know  all  about  it,"  replied  Bill. 

"How^  did  you  find  it  out?"  eagerly  questioned 
the  astonished  Will. 

"The  captain  told  me,"  said  Bill. 

Further  conversation  was  prevented  by  a  crowd 
of  the  boys  rushing  into  the  tent  to  congratulate 
Lieutenant  Newton  and  Sergeant  Logan  upon  their 
promotion. 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  119 

* 'Sergeant  Logan  !"  exclaimed  the  surprised 
Newton. 

*'Yes,  sir;  Sergeant  Logan,"  interposed  Dan 
Eliott.  "I  never  sleep  while  a  game  is  being  played 
no  matter  how  poor  the  hand  I  may  hold  ;  and  when 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  old  Governor  dealing  out 
the  cards  to-day,  and  saw  you  were  to  hold  the  aces, 
I  went  it  blind  up  to  the  captain  and  told  him  that 
Logan  was  the  man  for  your  place.  The  other  boys 
antied  up  the  same  way  in  double-quick  time,  and 
the  pile  is  for  you  and  Logan." 

It  would  be  very  difficult  to  decide  w^hich  of  the 
two  men  was  the  most  surprised  at  these  unexpected 
events.  On  the  evening  following  the  events  just 
narrated,  Will  noticed  that  the  men  were  gathering 
at  an  early  hour  in  large  numbers  within  the  great 
tent  where  the  meetings  had  been  held,  but  being 
much  absorbed  in  the  work  he  was  doing,  paid  but 
little  attention  to  what  was  transpiring.  He  was 
soon  notified  that  his  presence  was  required  in  the 
great  tent.  As  he  entered  it,  he  found  it  completely 
filled  with  men,  and  scores  who  were  unable  to  get 
in,  were  standing  outside.  The  walls  of  the  tent 
had  been  rolled  up,  how^ever,  so  that  all  could  see 
what  was  about  to  transpire.        Upon  seats  in  front 


I20  Win   Newton^ 

of  the  audience  sat  nearly  all  the  officers  of  the 
regiment.  Dan  Eliott  was  standing  upon  the 
platform  to  officiate  as  spokesman. 

At  the  proper  moment  Dan  began  :  "Lieutenant 
Xewton.  I  am  here  to  speak  for  the  enlisted  men  of 
this  regiment.  We  have  watched  vou  from  the 
beginning.  We  believe  you  are  an  honest  man  and 
that  you  have  played  a  square  game.  You  have 
never  stalked  the  cards,  stolen  an  ace  or  tnnnped 
your  partner's  trick,  but  through  thick  and  thin  you 
have  just  played  your  cards  for  what  they  were 
worth,  as  an  honest  man  should.  You  have  always 
been  willing  to  anti  when  it  was  vour  turn,  and  vou 
have  dealt  just  as  good  cards  to  the  private  soldiers 
as  you  have  to  the  officers.  We  were  all  glad  that 
vou  held  the  winning  hand  vesterdav,  and  feelinof 
that  we  wanted  to  present  a  small  testimonial  of  our 
regard  to  a  partner  who  always  played  according  to 
Hoyle.  \ve  present  vou  with  this  sword  and  belt. 
We  believe  in  doins^  thingfs  first-class,  and  vou  will 
not  find  a  more  beautiful  sword  in  the  whole  army 
than  this,"  and  he  handed  Will  Xewton  a  beautiful 
sword  most  elegantly  mounted  with  gold  and  elab- 
orate! v  engraved. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  \i\ 

Xewton  could  not  speak,  and  the  colonel  seeing 
his  embarrassment,  arose  and  said.  '"I  endorse  all 
that  has  been  said  by  Mr.  Eliott.  As  officers,  we 
only  regret  that  we  were  not  permitted  to  assist  in 
purchasing  this  beautiful  and  costly  sword,  but  as 
it  is  time  for  the  meeting  to  adjourn.  I  motion  tliat 
we  sfive  three  rousins:  cheers  for  Lieutenant  Xew- 
ton,  tlie  man.  who.  as  the  speaker  to-night  has  well 
said,  has  plaved  an  honest  hand  in  dealing  with  us 
all."  And  the  three  cheers  were  given  with  a 
will. 

Lieutenant  Xewton  found  much  to  do  the  last 
few  days  the  regiment  was  to  remain  in  the  old 
camp.  He  was  obliged  to  change  his  quarters : 
and  it  was  with  deep  regret  that  he  broke  up  his 
housekeeping  arrangements  with  Bill  Logan.  The 
latter  was  in  despair.  He  did  not  know  how  in 
the  world  he  should  get  along  without  Xewton  ; 
especially  so  since  they  had  made  him  Sergeant- 
*'\Vhy,"  remarked  he.  in  an  excited  manner.  ••!  am 
no  more  fit  to  be  a  Sersfeant  than  a  marine  is  fit  to 
command  a  man-of-war."  At  this  remark.  Dan 
Eliott  shook  his  head  with  a  knowing  wink.  and. 
said,  "We  boys  played  that  card  well !" 


122  Wi'll  Newton^ 

Each  week  Will  received  a  letter  from  his  old 
friend  Temple.  The  latter  had  returned  to  college, 
and  was  profuse  in  his  expressions  of  gratitude  to 
his  benefactor.  There  were  many  letters  for 
Newton  to  write,  and  in  the  midst  of  so  many 
friends  and  such  prosperity,  he  did  not  forget  his 
early  benefactor,  Jerry  Lamb.  A  letter  was  written 
to  him  covering  many  pages  giving  a  full  account 
of  all  that  had  transpired  within  the  last  few  days. 

"Wife  !"  "Wife  !"  called  that  worthy  but  excited 
individual,  as  he  finished  reading  the  letter.  "Come 
here,  quick,  and  listen!"  And  the  good  wife 
hastened  to  hear  the  news. 

"Just  as  I  told  you  it  would  be,  wife.  I  always 
insisted  upon  it ;  and  now  it  has  come  to  pass." 

"What  has  come  to  pass,  husband?"  inquired  the 
good  wife. 

"Oh  I  it  is  about  our  boy,  Will  Newton.  I  always 
said  that    he  vv^ould  be  a    general  before   the    war 

closed,  and  now  he  is." 

"A  what!  husband?" 

"A  General, of  course  ;  but  just  listen,"  and  he  read 
:aloud  the  letter. 

"Why  that  is  a  Lieutenant,  and  not  a  General, 
husband,"  said  Mrs. Lamb,  as  her  husband  finished 
reading  the  letter. 


The   Toung    Vohenteer.  123 

''Well,  so  it  is,"  said  the  other,  a  little  discon- 
certed by  the  correction.  "But  so  long  as  I  don't 
know  the  difference  between  the  two,  it  is  all  right ; 
but  he  is  a  wonderful  boy,  and  he  will  make  his 
mark  before  he  comes  home,  mind  what  I  tell  you 
now !" 

In  the  meantime  many  other  soldiers  had  gone 
forth  to  war  from  the  village  of  Maplewood,  but 
the  people  had  not  lost  their  interest  in  their  first 
volunteer,  and  all  were  rejoiced  to  hear  of  his  good 
fortune. 

The  army  was  under  marching  orders.  The  men 
almost  worshiped  their  commander,  General 
McClellan,  and  were  only  anxious  for  him  to  lead 
them  forth  to  meet  the  enemy.  That  those  desires 
^were  gratified,  our  succeeding  chapters  will  show. 
In  all  that  great  army,  there  was  not  a  finer  looking 
officer  than  Lieutenant  Will  Newton,  when  with  his 
regiment  he  marched  from  the  old  encampment  to 
take  a  part  in  the  aggressive  mov^ements  of  the 
coming  campaign. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

The  armv  was  about  to  be  transferred  from  its 
base  of  operations  at  Washington,  to  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, from  whence  it  was  to  go  up  the  Peninsular  to 
Richmond.  It  was  on  the  first  day  of  March,  1S62, 
that  Will  Newton's  reg-iment  embarked  on  board  a 
^  steam  transport  at  Alexandria,  Virginia,  and 
immediately  sailed  down  the  Potomac  River. 

Young  Newton  enjoyed  the  trip  very  much,  and 
in  the  following  extract  selected  from  a  long  letter 
written  to  the  two  boys  in  the  Lamb  homestead  at 
Maplewood,  he  gives  a  description  of  the  trip  and 
of  some  startling  events  which  followed : 

"Alexandria  is  an  old  citv  on  the  Viro;-inia  side 
of  the  Potomac  river,  some  five  or  six  miles  below 
WashinH;ton.  This  citv  is  also  at  the  head  of 
navigation  for  large  ships,  while  the  smaller  vessels 
can  go  up  the  river  as  far  as  Washington.  Our 
regiment  halted  for  a  few  hours  in  the  old  city,  and 
I  looked  around  to  see  what  points  of  interest  I 
could  find.     Among  them  I  saw  the  old  stone  house 


The    Voting    Volunteer.  135 

in  which  General  Braddock  had  his  head-quarters 
before  he  went  upon  that  fatal  Indian  campaign  in 
which  he  lost  his  life.  General  Washington  had 
his  own  head-quarters  there  many  years  afterwards. 
T  also  saw  the  old  Episcopal  church  in  which 
General  Washington  \vorshiped.  General  Lee, 
now  of  the  Confederate  army,  also  worshiped  here 
^vhen  livino:  at  his  old  home  on  Arlinoton  Heis^hts. 
It  is  a  quaint,  somber  looking  old  edifice.  I  also 
sa\v  the  place  \vhere  Col.  Ells\V()rth,  the  gallant  sol- 
dier, was  shot  by  the  ruffianly  proprietor  of  the 
^Marshall  House.  The  town  is  very  quiet.  Nearly 
all  the  persons  whom  I    saw  were  either  soldiers  or 


negroes. 


We  embarked  on  the  steamer  and  were  soon  sail- 
fiig  down  the  great  river.  The  scenery  on  both 
sides  was  ^■ery  fine.  I  wish  that  you  could  have 
enjoyed  it.  There  were  great  plantations  and  upon 
them  we  saw  many  slaves  at  work  ;  large  mansions 
and  the  most  magnificent  shade  trees  that  vou  ever 
saw.  There  was  such  an  appearance  of  comfort 
about  them  that  I  almost  wanted  to  2:0  on  shore  and 
enjoy  the  luxury  of  such  a  retreat. 

Fifteen    miles    below     Washington,     we    passed 

Mount  Vernon,  which,  as  you    know,  is  the  burial 
o 


126  JVill  Newton^ 

place  of  George  Washington.  The  men  were,  of 
course,  very  anxious  to  see  it.  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  gret  a  favorable  location  from  which  I 
could  gratify  my  curiosity.  The  old  family  mansion 
is  very  finely  situated  upon  a  beautiful  height  of 
land  at  some  distance  from  the  river,  but  in  full 
view  of  it.  Great  oak  trees  threw  their  brawny, 
moss-covered  arms  above  the  venerated  home,  as  if 
to  protect  it  from  the  storms  of  the  centuries.  The 
grass  covered  lawn  looked  beautiful  in  the  early  sun- 
shine of  spring,  and  I  could  hardly  make  myself 
believe  that  the  old  house  had  stood  there  for  more 
than  one  hundred  years.  Some  three  hundred 
yards  south  of  the  mansion  1  could  distinctly  see 
the  old  vault  of  the  Washington  family,  where  the 
remains  of  the  'father  of  his  country'  were  buried 
until  the  year  1S30.  Then  the}'  were  removed  by 
the  United  States  Government  to  a  new  tomb  near 
at  hand  built  to  receive  them. 

As  I  gazed  upon  the  scene,  my  friends,  I  derived 
a  new  inspiration  from  it.  I  wish  that  you  could 
both  visit  the  place  and  see  for  yourselves  ;  but  as 
long  as  you  cannot  at  present  do  that,  you  can 
imitate  the  virtues  of  that  great  man,  and  endeavor 


The    Young    Volunteer,  127 

to  be  as  worthy  of  the  respect  of  your  fellow  men 
as  was  he. 

As  we  passed  down  the  river  the  negroes  were 
all  very  much  interested  in  us,  and  flocked  to  the 
river's  bank  on  both  sides,  standing  with  open  eyes 
and  mouths,  to  see  'Massa  Linkum's  sojers.'  Poor 
slaves  !  they  look  degraded  and  ignorant.  What  a 
great  wrong  the  American  people  have  committed 
against  them. 

Our  steamer  landed  us  near  Fortress  Monroe.  I 
think  it  must  be  the  largest  fort  in  America,  if  not 
in  the  world.  It  encloses  as  much  as  fifteen  acres. 
It  is  impossible  for  me  to  attempt  to  describe  it  to 
you.  It  was  named  in  honor  of  ex-President 
Monroe.  There  are  some  guns  on  its  w^alls  so 
large  that  I  could  quite  easily  creep  into  the  muzzles 
of  them.  I  should  not  want  to  try  that  however, 
unless  they  would  promise  not  to  fire  the  gun  while 
I  was  in  there.  We  are  encamped  near  the  fort, 
and  can  go  down  to  the  beach  and  see  the  vessels 
in  the  bay.  There  are  very  many  of  them  ;  large 
ships,  little  ships,  schooners,  sloops,  brigs,  gun- 
boats, transports,  and  many  other  kinds.  They  all 
have  their  flags  flying  and  look  very  fine.  Only  a 
few  days    ago  this  navy  w^as  as  much  affi'ighted  as 


128  Wi7l  JVezvto?z, 

^vas  our  army  at  the  battle  of  Bull  Run.  Of  course 
you  have  read  about  it  in  your  papers  ;  but  I  will 
tell  you  how  it  looked,  for  I  saw  it  all.  I  assure 
you  it  was  a  very  important  event  in  the  history  of 
this  country. 

•  There  had  been  many  rumors  about  here  that 
the  Confederates  were  building  a  great  gun-boat  up 
the  river,  that  would  soon  come  down  and  sink  all 
our  ships ;  then  capture  Washington,  and  other 
northern  cities.  The  stories  about  this  wonderful 
craft  not  only  increased  in  number,  but  also  in  size. 

By  these  reports,  that  craft  was  several  hundred 
feet  long ;  her  guns  so  large  that  a  solid  shot  would 
weigh  half  a  ton  or  more  ;  that  it  would  draw  but 
a  few  inches  of  water,  and  could  almost  sail  on  dry 
land,  and  it  was  so  very  fast,  that  no  ordinary 
vessel  could  escape  from  it.  Thus  men  talked  and 
wondered  what  the  Confederate  gun-boat  actually 
was.     We  were  all  oii  the  tip-toe  of  anxiety. 

Our  curiosity  was  sooil  gratified.  For  on  the 
eighth  of  this  month,  the  long  talked  of  visitor  put 
in  an  appearance.  There  ^vere  a  great  many 
vessels  in  the  bay  to  give  her  a  warm  and  cordial 
reception.  There  were  several  of  our  great  ships 
of  war    among    the    number.      The    "Roanoke," 


The    Young    Volimteer.  -I2C) 

^'Minnesota,"  "Congress"  and  "Cumberland,"  with 
'numerous  other,  small  war  vessels;  also  merchant- 
«hips  and  steamers.  From  the  mouth  of  the 
Elizabeth  river  the  Confederate  gun-boat  came. 
As  she  hove  in  sight,  an  alarm  was  given,  and  we 
all  rushed  out  where  we  could  see  it.  Two  small 
Confederate  gun-boats  also  came  out  at  the  same 
time  from  the  James  river;  but  the  great  monitor 
known  as  the  "Merrimac"  absorbed  all  the  atten- 
tion. It  was  a  most  singular  looking  object,  and 
w^hen  it  first  came  in  view  I  could  only  think  of  a 
large  house  floating  in  the  water  with  only  its  roof 
exposed  to  view.  There  were  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  spectators  on  the  land  watching  the  results 
with  much  anxiety.  Among  the  most  interested 
of  them  was  my  old  friend,  Bill  Logan,  who  stood 
by  my  side. 

The  Merrimac  emerged  from  the  river  and  directed 
its  course  directly  towards  the  Cumberland  and 
Congress  ofl:'  Newport  ISTews.  ^What  kind  of  a 
craft  do  you  call  that,  I  should  like  to  know .?'  said 
Logan.  'I  have  been  in  all  ports  and  seen  all  kinds 
of  sailing  and  steam  gear,  but  I  never  saw  such  a 
looking  craft  afloat  as  that.  It  looks  like  the  roof 
of  a  huge  house  taken  from  some  mansion  up  river 


130  Wz'll  Newton^ 

and  floated  down  here  to  scare  our  people.  I  wish 
that  one  of  our  frigates  out  there  would  send  a  shot 
into  it  to  see  what  it  is  made  of.' 

As  if  in  response  to  his  expressed  desire,  at  that 
moment  a  cloud  of  smoke  rose  above  the  port-hole 
of  the  Cumberland,  and  a  hundred  pound  solid 
shot  w^ent  screaming  over  the  water  and  struck 
squarely  against  the  iron  Merrimac  ;  but  it  bounded 
off  as  if  it  had  been  but  a  ball  thrown  from  a  child's 
hand.  The  Congress  now  opened  on  the  Merrimac 
with  its  fifty  guns,  and  the  Cumberland  with  its 
twenty-four.  The  rapid  discharge  of  these  guns 
filled  the  air  with  almost  deafening  reports.  A  great 
cloud  of  smoke  was  suspended  over  the  scene.  Great 
shells  and  shot  were  striking  the  Merrimac  like  hail- 
stones in  a  shower,  but  glancing  off  from  its  mailed 
side  they  were  quite  as  harmless  in  their  effect. 
Without  deigning  to  open  her  port-holes  she  steamed 
on  toward  the  Cumberland,  and  soon  her  iron  beak 
went  crashing  through  the,  side  of  that  magnificent 
vessel.  A  flood  of  water  poured  into  the  disabled 
ship,  and  at  the  same  moment,  the  Merrimac  poured 
a  terrible  broadside  into  her  crippled  antagonist. 
Manfully  the  dying  Cumberland  fought  with  her 
terrible  foe  ;  and  not  until  she  was  sinking   did  the 


The    7'oung    Volunteer.  131 

survivors  abandon  the  ship  by  jumping  overboard 
to  save  their  lives.  On-e  hundred  and  fifty  of  the 
sick  and  wounded  went  down  with  the  noble  ship. 

We  had  watched  this  struggle  with  almost  breath- 
less interest.  And  as  the  Cumberland  went  down, 
Bill  muttered,  'I  am  blowed  if  this  don't  beat  all 
that  I  ever  saw  !' 

After  the  Cumberland  went  down  the  Merrimac 
turned  upon  the  Congress  and  speedily  destroyed 
her  ;  the  Minnesota  and  several  other  vessels  were 
injured  more  or  less,  and  the  Confederate  gun-boat 
as  if  satisfied  with  its  day's  labor,  returned  up  the 
river  to  its  former  place  of  anchorage. 

That  night,  as  I  sat  with  Bill  Logan  and  Dan 
Eliott  by  the  beach  overlooking  the  scene  of  the 
day's  conflict,  I  was  completely  discouraged  and 
said  it  was  of  no  use  to  deny  tlie  situation.  We 
have  no  ship  strong  enough  to  meet  that  terrible 
monster  and  it  will  destroy  every  thing. 

*Oh,  don't  give  up  so  easy,'  said  Bill  Logan.  'I 
have  seen  things  look  desperate  before  this.  I  was 
shipwrecked  once,  and  for  six  days  sailed  on  a 
hen-coop  in  the  Atlantic  ocean  with  a  piece  of 
oar  for  a  mast  and  my  shirt  for  a  sail.  All  the 
provisions  I  had  was  a  few  hard-tack  in  my  pocket 


132  IVi/l  Ne-juto7i^ 

and  a  small  cask  of  water,  and  I  came  out  all  rigfht. 
I  tell  you  the  Lord  is  watching-  all  these  things  and 
will  brinof  them  around  strano:elv  sometimes.' 

'That  is  so,  gentlemen,'  chimed  in  Dan  Eliott. 
'It  is  wonderful  how  a  kind  Providence  often  opens 
the  way  for  a  man's  escape  and  relief  wdien  he  least 
expects  it.  Why,  I  remember  in  '51,  I  had  been 
out  from  'Frisco  for  several  weeks  among  my  mines 
up  in  the  foot-hills.  I  had  been  having  awful  hard 
luck.  No  gold  in  the  mines.  The  claims  would 
not  sell  for  any  thing  and  I  went  back  to  'Frisco 
dead  broke.  That  is  a  pretty  hard  position  for  a 
man  who  is  thousands  of  miles  from  home  and 
among  strangers  ;  but  a  kind  Providence  seemed  to 
guide  me.  I  went  into  a  little  dirty  saloon  without 
dust  enough  to  pay  for  a  supper,  and  there  I  found 
a  lot  of  greasers  who  had  been  up  in  the  mines  and 
struck  it  rich.  They  of  course  wanted  to  play,  and 
although  r  was  tired  and  hungry,  I  concluded  to 
accommodate  them.  Now,  gentlemen,  you  know 
that  I  always  play  an  honest  game.  For  once,  I 
had  a  big  run,  and  when  daylight  dawned  I  had 
piled  up  dust  to  the  amount  of  a  cool  ten  thousand. 
I  have  never  lost  faith  in  Providence  since  then.' 


The    Vomtg    Vohinteer.  133 

*But,'  I  questioned,  'do  you  really  believe,  Dan, 
that  Providence  aided  you  in  winning  all  that  money 
from  the  poor  greasers?  Was  it  not  by  your  own 
superior  skill  that  you  secured  it?' 

'Well,'  replied  the  other,  'I  never  stop  to  split 
hairs  ;  of  course  I  played  the  cards  for  all  they  were 
worth,  and  I  have  always  noticed  that  God  helps 
those  who  help  themselves.' 

'But,'  persisted  I,  'do  you  think  it  was  right  to 
win  all  their  money?' 

"Well,'  some  one  had  to  get  it  from  them,'  replied 
Dan,  'and  perhaps  the  Lord  was  well  pleased  to 
have  it  fall  into  the  hands  of  a  white  man  who 
would  make  a  good  use  of  it.  But  all  these  things 
are  past.  I  never  shall  play  cards  again.  I  was  not 
advocating  the  playing  of  cards,  but  only  showing 
the  kindness  of  Providence  ;'  and  thus  the  matter 
ended. 

Early  on  Sunday  morning  every  one  in  and  around 
Fortress  Monroe  was  astir,  all  anxious  to  see  what 
would  on  that  day  transpire.  A  new  feature  had 
appeared  during  the  night,  for  in  the  morning  there 
was  a  strange  vessel  in  Hampton  roads  ;  a  most  sin- 
gular and  insignificant  looking  craft.  'What  do 
you  suppose    it  is?'  I    asked  Bill  Logan,  the    next 


134  Wi'll  Newton^ 

morning,  as  we  stood  and   looked  at  it  through  the 

mists. 

'Don't  know,'  replied  the  other.  'Looks  much 
like  the  hen-coop  of  w^hich  I  spoke  last  night,  or  as  if 
some  old  lady  had  sent  a  wash-tub,  or  a  cheese  box 
adrift  out  in  the  harbor  ;  but  I  w^ouldn't  be  surprised 
if  it  was  some  sort  of  a  gun-boat  that  our  folks 
have  constructed  to  attack  that  rebel  Merrimac' 

'I  can  hardly  believe,'  I  remarked,  'that  the  Gov- 
ernment would  send  so  small  a  craft  to  meet  that 
great  monster.' 

'You  can't  always  tell  by  the  size,'  replied  Bill. 
'Sometimes  little  things  are  mighty  powerful,  and 
we  shall  see  before  night  what  that  little  fellovr  is 
made  of.' 

Before  noon  the  thousands  of  spectators  saw  the 
huge  Confederate  steamer  once  more  approaching, 
and  to  the  delight  of  all,  the  little  black  Monitor 
pushed  out  to  meet  her.  'She's  got  grit  enough, 
anyway,'  muttered  Bill  Logan,  as  he  saw  the  Mon- 
itor steam  for  its  antagonist.  The  battle  opened. 
We  all  expected  each  moment  to  see  the  Monitor 
go  down  before  her  mighty  foe  ;  but  in  this  we  were 
happily  disappointed,  for  the  little  gun-boat  not  only 
managed  to  keep  afloat  but  made  a  pretty  good  fight. 


The   Young    Volunteer.  135 

'If  I  was  in  the  habit  of  betting,'  said  Dan  Eliott, 
'I  would  go  five  to  one  on  the  little  Monitor ;  for 
she  is  a  trump  and  an  ace  at  that.' 

The  hours  passed  and  these  two  gigantic  warriors 
were  engaged  in  a  most  deadly  conflict.  Great 
globes  of  iron  were  hurled  with  terrific  force  against 
each  other  but  fell  harmless  from  their  iron  sides. 
As  the  battle  progressed  the  Monitor  became  more 
bold  and  aggressive.  Round  and  round  its  great 
antagonist  it  steamed,  planting  its  blows  with  won- 
derful rapidity  and  skill.  The  Merrimac  was  evi- 
dently becoming  weary  of  the  conflict,  and  turning 
its  head  sadly  away  steamed  slowly  back  up  the 
river. 

'She  is  whipped  or  I  am  a  sinner !' yelled  Bill 
Logan.  And  all  the  men  went  wild  with  joy  as 
they  beheld  the  result  of  the  conflict. 

'I  always  believe  in  Providence,'  remarked  Dan 
Eliott,  as  the  Confederate  monster  disappeared  from 
view. 

The  few  days  passed  around  Fortress  Monroe 
have  been  very  eventful  ones  to  me." 

Will  Newton  was  a  most  careful  observer  of  men 
and  events  and  not  a  day  passed  without  adding  some- 
thing to  his   store   of  knowledge.       He  was   much 


136  Hy/l  Ne~JL'to7i.  ■ 

interested  in  the  colored  people  and  frequently  at- 
tended their  religious  meetings.  He  was  also  anx- 
ious to  meet  some  of  the  Southern  planters,  to  learn 
by  conversation  with  them,  what  their  opinions 
were  concerning  the  war  ;  to  ascertain  upon  what 
they  based  their  right  to  wage  war  against  the  gen- 
eral government.  To  gain  this  desired  information, 
'he  often  took  long  rides  into  the  country,  and  as  he 
was  an  excellent  horseman,  he  derived  much  pleas- 
ure from  these  trips.  He  often  called  at  the  plan- 
tations which  he  passed,  and  was  always  received 
with  that  genial  hospitality  for  which  the  Southern 
people  are  distinguished.  Frequently  he  would  dis- 
cuss the  situation  with  the  old  planters,  and  thus 
discovered  that  the  old  doctrine  of  State  Rights  was 
2X  the  foundation  of  all  their  secession  heresies. 

He  had  called  at  a  plantation  one  day,  some  ten 
miles  from  the  picket  line,  and  as  he  had  frequently 
been  there  before,  he  received  a  very  kind  salutation 
from  the  family.  They  invited  him  to  remain  and 
take  dinner  with  them  ;  and  as  he  was  about  to  con- 
sent, a  colored  man  who  was  just  passing  the  open 
door  of  the  room,  gave  him  a  very  significant  look. 
His  suspicions  were  somewhat  aroused,  and  he 
politely  declined  their   invitation.     His   horse    was 


The    Toiuig    Vohmteer.  137 

hitched  at  the  gate,  and  as  he  went  from  the  veranda 
to  the  horse  he  passed  the  colored  man,  who  said 
in  a  low  tone,  ''De  Confeds.  are  on  de  road  above 
and  below  de  house  ;  take  de  wood  road  to  de  left 
as  you  pass  into  de  woods  yonder,  and  ride  like  de 
debil." 

That  was  warning    enough.     Will  sprang  easily 
into  the  saddle,  and  waving  an  adieu  to  the  family 
who  were  still  standing  upon  the  veranda,  he  trotted 
slowdy  away  in  the   direction  of  his  regiment.     As 
he  entered  the  wood,   he  saw  the  rough  wood  road 
referred    to    by  the   darkey  ;  for    a  moment    only  he 
hesitated;  then  pressing    the  spurs    to  the  flanks  of 
his  noble   horse,   he    dashed  down    the  rough    and. 
abandoned  road.     For  a  mile    or  more,  no    sounds 
were  heard  save  the  clatter  of  his  own   horse's  feet, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  think  that    for  some  cause 
he  had  been  misinformed,  when  a  loud  and  peculiar 
call  was  heard  at  a  distance  in  the  wood  on  his  left ; 
a  moment  later,  a  similar  one  w^as  heard  at  his  right. 
Ah!  muttered  Will  to  himself,  that  means  business. 
Now  for  a  race,    and  his   steed   dashed  ahead  as  if 
aware    of  his    master's    danger.     As    he    rode    on, 
Newton  bitterly  upraided  himself  for  his  foolishness 
in  being  so  far  from  camp  without  even  permission. 


138  Will  Newton, 

from  his  commanding  officer.  It  is  bad  enou2"h  he 
thought,  to  be  killed  or  captured  on  the  field  of 
battle  ;  but  to  be  caught  in  a  scrape  like  this  !  and  he 
urged  his  steed  to  increase  his  speed.  Soon,  to  his 
great  discomfiture,  he  saw  three  horsemen  in  the 
road  before  him,  not  over  half  a  mile  away. 

They  were  coming  towards  him  at  a  round  trot. 
He  knew  at  a  glance  that  they  were  Confederate 
cavalry.  His  first  thought  was  to  fly  in  the  opposite 
direction  ;  but  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  showed 
him  a  large  party  of  horsemen  coming  up  in  the 
rear.  There  was  a  dense  forest  on  either  side,  and 
without  doubt  there  were  foes  concealed  there  to 
cut  oft' all  hope  of  escape  in  that  direction  even  if 
he  should  undertake  it.  Whatever  was  done  must 
be  done  quickly ;  for  the  horsemen  in  front  were 
almost  within  hailing  distance.  His  mind  was 
immediately  made  up.  He  could  see  but  one  chance 
of  escape.  He  knew  the  horse  which  he  rode,  and 
what  he  could  depend  on  him  to  do.  Newton  drew 
a  white  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  held  it 
for  a  flag  of  truce  above  his  head.  The  horsemen 
were  coming  up  three  abreast ;  they  were  savage 
looking  fellows  and  well  armed ;  one  of  them 
waived  his  hand  as  if  in  response  to  the  white  flag, 


The   Young    Volunteer.  139 

and  thus  each  parly  advanced  until  not  half  a  dozen 
paces  intervened  between  them.  Will  was  the  first 
to  speak,  and  asked,  "Gentlemen,  what  do  you 
want  ?" 

"A  Yankee  of  about  your  size,"  was  the  reply. 
"All  right,  then,"  said  Newton,  "here  I  am." 
He  w^as  then  within  ten  feet  of  the  Confederates. 
Now  or  never,  he  thought.  Bracing  himself  in  the 
saddle,  he  drove  the  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  his 
horse  and  veiled  w^ith  all  his  mio^ht.  With  a 
tremendous  bound  the  frightened  animal  sprang 
forward.  The  Confederates  and  horses  were  alike 
unprepared  for  such  a  movement.  There  was  a 
terrible  collision.  Will  cluns:  to  his  horse  which 
went  bounding  at  a  break-neck  pace  down  the  road. 
Two  of  the  Confederates  went  prostrate,  horses  and 
all  in  a  heap  together.  Will  heard  loud  shouts,  and 
looking  back  saw  a  parly  of  horsemen  coming  at 
full  speed.  Now  for  a  race,  thought  Will.  He  had 
but  little  fear  of  their  being  able  to  overtake  him. 
His  only  fear  was  that  he  might  meet  more  of  them 
before  he  reached  camp.  His  pursuers  soon  saw 
that  it  would  be  a  diflicult  task  to  catch  him,  and 
began  to  fire   their  carbines  at  him.     The   bullets 


140  Wi7l  Nevjton. 

went  above  him,  on  either   side,  but  horse  and  rider 
escaped  them  all. 

After  an  hour's  ride  the  country  became  more 
open,  and  at  last  with  great  joy  he  saw  the  Union 
picket  line  and  knew  that  he  \vas  safe.  In  a  short 
time  he  rode  into  camp.  He  w^as  so  chagrined  at 
the  danger  he  had  encountered  that  he  never  spoke 
of  it  in  camp,  but  he  wrote  a  full  description  of  it 
to  his  friend  Temple,  at  Harvard,  and  also  to  the 
Lamb's,  at  Maplewood.  Will  Newton  wisely  con- 
cluded that  "discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor," 
and  from  that  day  he  made  no  more  excursions 
beyond  the  Union  picket  line. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

It  will  be  impossible  for  me  to  desciibe  all  that 
Will  Newton  passed  through  while  on  the  Peninsular 
campaign.  His  regiment  was  one  of  the  first  to 
engage  in  the  seige  of  Yorktow^n  ;  and  while  the 
tardy  movements  of  General  McCellan  were  irksome 
to  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  young  volunteer, 
he  found  much  to  interest  him  as  the  seige  advanced. 
The  wonderful  results  of  civil  engineering^.  The 
great  redoubts.  Line  after  line  springing  as  if  by 
magic  from  the  ground  ;  huge  guns  in  position,  with 
smaller  lines  of  defense. 

The  men  were  very  anxious  for  the  day  to  arrive 
when  they  should  open  all  this  enginery  of  war 
upon  the  enemy  ;  but  in  this  they  were  doomed  to 
disappointment ;  for  just  as  the  preparations  for  the 
bombardment  were  completed,  it  was  discovered 
that  the  place  had  been  evacuated  by  the  Confed- 
erates. 

Lieutenant  Newton's  regiment  was  one  of  the 
first  to  lead  in  the  advance  on  Williamsburg,  and  it 

lO 


142  Will  Newt 071^ 

played  an  important  part  in  that  bloody  battle.  To 
it  was  assigned  the  task  of  seizing  a  strong  Con- 
federate out-post  manned  by  two  full  Confederate 
regiments.  They  were  to  chai^ge  in  light  marching 
order.  Their  knapsacks  and  baggage  were  piled 
upon  the  ground,  and  at  the  given  signal  they 
dashed  across  a  field  to  seize  the  coveted  position 
half  a  mile  away.  Gallantlv  thev  went  forward  in 
the  midst  of  a  murderous  fire.  Their  line  never 
wavered  for  a  moment,  when  thinned,  as  it  sadly 
was,  by  the  shots  and  shells  of  the  enemy,  it  closed 
up  as  if  on  parade,  and  dashed  onward.  The  brave 
colonel  led  the  assault,  and  seeins:  in  it  his  lono- 
looked  for  opportunity,  resolved  to  be  the  first  man 
to  mount  the  Confederate  breastworks.  Will  New- 
ton haa  determined  to  do  the  same  thing,  and  onward 
the  men  dashed.  Newton  ^v[^s  watchins:  the  colonel 
so  very  closelv,  and  straining  everv  nerve  to  keep 
pace  with  him,  that  he  did  not  see  the  progress 
made  by  a  few  other  men.  and  when  to  his  great 
joy,  as  he  sprang  upon  the  breast  works,  at  the  same 
instant  he  saw  both  Logan  and  Eliott  among  the 
Confederates,  capturing  prisoners  bv  the  dozen. 

It  was  a  glorious   victor}^,    and  the  regiment  had 
^von  great  distinction  by  its  brilliant  conduct.     They 


> 


m 


> 

a 
c! 


O      ^ 


«#*:  *i*&i^ 


The    young    Volunteer.  143 

had  lost  several  men  who  were  killed,  and  many 
others  were  wounded.  The  former  were  buried 
carefully,  and  the  wounded  were  tenderly  carried  to 
the  ambulances,  and  sent  to  the  hospitals. 

From  Williamsburg  they  went  to  White  House 
Landing,  and  soon  after  that,  participated  in  the 
battle  of  Fair  Oaks.  Here  Newton's  regiment 
occupied  a  very  dangerous  position  and  did  most 
effective  service.  They  held  their  post  nearly  all 
day  against  the  superior  Confederate  forces  which 
were  hurled  upon  them.  Man  after  man  went 
down.  The  captain  and  first  lieutenant  of 
Newton's  company  were  wounded  and  carried 
from  the  field,  and  the  command  of  the  company 
devolved  upon  Lieutenant  Newton. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  the  Confederates  being 
re-inforced,  made  an  over\vhelming  charge,  and  the 
noble  little  band  of  survivors  were  swept  back  in 
defeat.  Bullets  came  like  a  pitiless  leaden  rain  upon 
them,  and  the  conquering  Confederates  with  wild 
3'ells  followed  in  pursuit.  Not  far  however,  did  the 
Unionists  retreat  before  they  rallied,  reformed  their 
line,  and  once  more  presented  an  unbroken  front 
to  the  enemv. 


144  ^^'^^   Newton^ 

Among  the  missing  was  Sergeant  Logan.  "Who 
saw  him  hist,  and  where  was  he  then  ?"  anxiously 
demanded  Newton. 

"I  saw  him  in  that  chmip  of  bushes,  not  ten 
minutes  ago,"  said  one  pointing  to  some  undergrowth 
not  over  sixty  yards  in  their  front  "He  was  un- 
harmed, but  nearly  surrounded  by  rebels." 

"Let  us  go  in  search  of  him,"  shouted  Newton; 
and  without  waiting  to  see  who  followed  him,  or  to 
think  of  the  great  danger  he  would  incur  by  so 
doing,  he  dashed  for  the  clump  of  small  trees  which 
had  been  pointed  out  to  him.  The  Confederate 
skirmishers  soon  saw  him  and  bullets  went  hum- 
ming like  bees  around  him. 

"Lieutenant,  we  are  alone,  but  \ve  will  do  the 
best  we  can." 

Newton  looked,  and  for  the  first  time  saw  that 
Dan  Eliott  was  the  only  mmi  in  the  company  who 
had  the  hardihood  to  follow  him  in  his  perilous 
luidertaking. 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  desperate  struggle  in 
the  bushes  ;  and  heedless  of  all  else,  the  two  men 
rushed  in.  They  fomid  the  object  of  their  search 
unharmed,  save  a  score  of  slight  wounds  ;  but  he 
was  most  sorely  pressed.     He  was    surrounded  by 


The    Tou7ig    Volunteer.  145 

three  or  four  Confederate  soldiers,  who  were 
endeavoring  to  capture  him.  In  the  struggle,  they 
had  all  thrown  down  their  guns,  and  were  eno-ao-ed 
in  a  hand-to-hand  conflict.  Bill  Logan  was  now  in 
his  native  element.  The  gallant  Southerners  found 
that  they  had  caught  "a  tartar."  The  roar  of  guns 
were  almost  deafening  ;  the  bullets  were  cutting  the 
branches  of  the  trees  around  them  ;  but  these  men 
intent  only  upon  the  business  at  hand,  struck  and 
fought  on. 

When    Newton   and    Eliott    arrived,     they    had 
managed    to    evade    the    tremendous    blows    which 
were  falling  from  Logan's  fists,  and  had  clenched 
him.     Logan    did    not    see    the   friends    who   were 
coming   to   his   relief,  but  supposed  the   advancing 
men  were  Confederates  ;  but  he  was  not  dismaved. 
"Come  on    with  your  grapphng  irons,"  he  yelled. 
"Come  on  with  your   whole  rebel    fleet,   you  will 
find  that  you  have  struck  the  hardest  craft  that  sails 
these  waters."     These  words  were  not  mere  boast- 
ing.     With    one    hand    he    caught   a    man    by  the 
throat ;  it  was  a  grip  of  death.     The  victim's  eyes 
rolled  in  their  sockets,  and  he  fell  lifeless. 

At  that  moment,   Xewton  and   Eliott  reached  the 
combatants.    The  surviving  Confederates  were  taken 


146  lFi7l   N'ezvton^ 

prisoners  and  hurried  within  the  Union  lines. 
Logan  was  Hterally  covered  with  sHght  wounds, 
and  Newton  urged  him  to  go  to  the  rear  and  have 
them  dressed. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  the  brave  fellow.  "I  don't 
propose  to  go  below  in  a  storm,  I  want  another 
chance  at  those  fellows  before  the  sun  sroes  down  to- 
night." 

That  night  Will  Newton  asked  Logan  how  he 
came  to  be  so  far  in  the  rear  when  the  reg-iment  fell 
back. 

"It  was  like  this,"  responded  Logan.  "I  thought 
w^e  would  be  able  to  hold  them  back ;  and  I  did  not 
slip  my  cables  when  the  rest  did,  and  in  a  moment 
about  every  sail  had  disappeared.  I  then  decided 
to  w^ork  my  way  back  slowly  and  pick  off  a  few  of 
the  foremost  as  I  went.  The  trouble  was,  however, 
that  I  did  not  go  fast  enough.  I  worked  my  way 
back  to  the  bushes,  and  thought  it  best  to  make  a 
stand  there,  and  see  what'  the  situation  was.  Every 
thing  Avent  well  for  a  time  ;  the  winds  were  fair, 
and  looking  out  through  the  bushes  I  had  a  good 
view  of  the  rebels  and  could  take  a  fair  aim  at  them. 
I  heard  some  inen  in  the  bushes  behind  me,  and 
supposing  that  they  were  our  fellows,  turned  around 


The    Toitng    Volunteer.  147 

to  speak  to  them  ;  but  I  found  that  they  were  rebels. 
There  were  some  six  or  seven  of  them.  I  saw  that 
my  only  hope  was  in  putting  my  best  foot  foremost ; 
so  I  called  upon  them  to  surrender,  and  ran  towards 
them  as  if  I  had  power  to  surround  the  whole  squad. 
One  of  them  in  a  most  ungrateful  manner  put  his 
gun  to  his  shoulder  and  blazed  "away  right  in  my 
face  and  the  bullet  just  grazed  my  ear.  It  w^as  an 
inexcusable  blunder  for  him  to  miss  me  when  I  was 
so  near.  Of  course  I  had  to  return  the  compliment ; 
and  wdien  I  fired  he  concluded  to  go  below  for 
repairs.  The  other  fellows  called  on  me  to  sur- 
render. I  ouess  thev  thoug-ht  that  I  did  not  know 
what  that  meant,  for  I  kept  on  fighting.  That 
made  them  mad,  and  they  dropped  their  guns  and 
sprang  upon  me.  They  threw  out  their  grappling 
irons,  and  I  met  them  as  best  I  could.  I  used  to  be 
quite  a  man  in  a  tussel  of  that  kind,  so  I  was  not 
much  alarmed.  When  I  heard  you  and  Dan  Eliott 
coming  I  thought  you  were  Confederates,  and  of 
course  I  began  to  think  that  all  hope  was  gone  ;  but 
your  arrival  saved  me  sure." 

The  battle  of  Fair  Oaks  was  ended.  A  large 
portion  of  the  Federal  dead  and  seriously  Avounded 
had  been  left  on    the  battle   field  and   fell  into   the 


1 48  Wi7/  Newton^ 

hands  of  the  Confederates  ;  the  dead  to  receive  a 
hast\'  burial,  the  wounded  to  be  treated  as  prison- 
ers of  war.  Thus  closed  the  battle  of  Fair  Oaks. 
Upon  that  field  the  Union  soldiers  could  look  upon 
the  spires  of  Richmond.  That  vision  did  not 
gladden  their  hearts  again  for  long  weary  months  ; 
and  not  until  thousands  of  brave  men  had  fallen 
upon  scores  of  battle  fields. 

The  Union  army  sustained  heavy  losses  during  the 
progress  of  the  campaign.  The  losses  on  battlefields 
had  not  kept  pace  with  those  caused  by  sickness. 
The  climate  on  the  peninsula  was  very  unhealthy, 
and  the  deadly  malaria  of  that  region  told  with  fear- 
ful effect  upon  the  Union  troops  who  had  not  be^ 
come  acclimated  in  the  least  degree.  The  regiment 
of  Will  Newton  had  already  lost  over  one-half  of 
the  men  it  had  mustered  for  duty  when  it  had  landed 
at  Fortress  Monroe.  The  colonel  had  not  been  in- 
jured ;  but  a  large  proportion  of  his  officers  were 
killed  or  disabled  with  wounds.  The  regiment  had 
fought  as  bravely  as  even  its  ambitious  commander 
could  desire,  and  won  for  itself  so  much  honor  that 
ts  fame  extended  through  the  whole  army.  Tt  par- 
ticipated in  the  famous  seven  days  battles  of  Gen. 
McClellan's   retreat    to  Harrison's  Landing    on  the 


c 

r 

D 

o 

to 
> 

O 
?^ 

CO 

> 
O 

o 
o 


The    Young    Vol u nice?'.  149 

James  river  ;  and  it  was  with  a  grateful  heart  that 
the  young  volunteer  at  the  head  of  his  little  compan}' 
of  men  saw  that  the  fearful  retreat  was  at  an  end. 
There  had  been  no  rest  or  sleep  all  those  days,  but 
a  series  of  marches  and  battles  by  which  McClellan 
made  one  of  the  most  remarkable  movements  of 
the  \var.  The  men  were  ragged,  foot-sore  and  com- 
pletely exhausted  ;  and  the  first  twelve  hours  after 
reaching  Harrison's  Landing  were  spent  lying  upon 
the  ground  in  a  sweet  delicious  sleep. 

They  remained  at  that  point  for  several  days,  and 
while  there  Newton  found  time  to  call  upon  many 
of  his  friends  in  the  regiment ;  but  that  task  was  a 
very  sad  one  because  so  many  of  the  men  with 
whom  he  had  formerh^  associated  were  now  missing. 
It  was  also  arranged  to  have  a  prayer-meeting  while 
they  were  there.  In  the  open  air,  one  sweet, 
summer  evening,  it  was  held.  A  large  company 
was  present  including  the  colonel  and  other  officers. 
Hymns  were  sung,  prayers  offered  and  words  of 
Christian  experience  were  spoken.  As  the  service 
was  about  to  close,  at  the  request  of  the  colonel,  the 
wdiole  company  present  bowed  in  prayer,  asking  for 
God's  blessing  to  rest  upon  them  as  they  went  forth 
to  other  fields  of  conflict. 


150  m/i  Navtoii. 

Lieutenant  Newton  stood  very  high  in  the  estima- 
tion of  his  brother  officers  at  the  close  of  the  disas- 
trous peninsular  campaign.  For  as  a  boy  only  sev- 
enteen years  of  age,  he  led  his  company  through  all 
those  fierce  battles  with  the  courage  and  coolness  of 
a  veteran.  His  modesty  was  equal  to  his  bravery, 
and  by  his  kindness  to  all,  he  disarmed  any  hostile 
criticism  that  might  otherwise  have  been  made.  But 
he  was  very  much  disappointed  and  humiliated  over 
the  barren  results  of  the  campaign  which  had  been 
inaugurated  but  a  few  weeks  before  upon  so  large 
a  scale.  Like  the  majority  of  soldiers  in  the  army, 
he  believed  that  it  was  possible  for  Gen.  McClellan 
to  have  moved  forward  and  captured  Richmond  ; 
and  that  in  doing  so  his  losses  would  have  been  no 
greater  than  they  were  in  making  his  retreat,  while 
the  fact  was  also  apparent  to  all,  that  his  retreat  from 
the  vicinity  of  the  Confederate  Capital  would  pro- 
long the  war  and  indefinitely  postpone  its  capture. 
Newton's  regiment  however  soon  embarked  on 
board  a  transport,  and  while  en  route  from  Har- 
rison's Landing  at  Alexandria,  he  wrote  a  lengthy 
letter  to  his  old  friend  Jerr}-  Lamb.  In  closing  it 
he  used  language  something  like  this  : — 


The    Young    Volunteer.  151 

"I  cannot  understand  the  movements  we  have 
been  making.  I  have  had  full  faith  in  General 
McClellan,  but  how  can  I  account  for  his  retreat? 
We  were  so  near  Richmond  at  Fair  Oaks,  that  w^e 
could  see  the  spires  of  the  churches.  The  men  all 
believe  that  we  could  have  entered  the  town.  I  feel 
so  badly  that  sometimes  I  almost  wish  that  I  was 
sleeping  with  our  brave  boys  at  Fair  Oaks.  Their 
death  was  honorable  and  even  desirable  when  com- 
pared w4th  this  disgraceful  abandonment  of  the 
campaign  ;  a  disgrace  in  which  we  are  all  obliged 
to  participate.  Of  course  we  shall  soon  meet  the 
victorious  Confederates  again.  I  understand  that 
General  Pope  is  preparing  to  receive  them  out  be- 
yond our  old  battle  field  of  Bull  Run.  I  hope  that 
I  am  not  a  braggart  or  a  fanatic,  but  I  do  feel  in  my 
heart  that  on  the  next  field  of  battle  it  will  be  either 
victory  for  the  Union  army  or  death  for  myself.  At 
any  rate,  I  hope  never  to  disgrace  you  or  my  friends 
in  Maplewood." 

If  young  Newton  truthfully  stated  his  desires  in 
that  letter  to  his  friend,  he  was  doomed  to  a  bitter 
disappointment,  for  his  regiment  arrived  at  the  front 
only  in  time  to  engage  in   the  two  bloody  battles  of 


152  Will  Newt 071, 

Chantilly  and  the  second  Bull  Run,  from  both  of 
which  fields  the  Union  army  commanded  by  General 
Pope,  was  driven  in  the  most  disastrous  defeat. 

By  a  singular  coincidence  after  the  battle  of  the 
second  Bull  Run,  Will  Newton's  regiment  was  en- 
camped for  several  days  very  near  the  old  quarters 
which  they  had  occupied  the  previous  winter,  and 
from  that  place  we  find  hini  once  more  writing  to 
his  friend  Lamb  in  Alaplewood,  as  follows  : 

"We  are  on  Arlington  Heights  once  more,  to  re- 
main, I  suppose,  but  tor  a  few  days.  We  are  within 
a  stone's  throw  of  our  last  winter's  encampment. 
We  have  passed  through  many  dangers  since  then. 
Great  changes  have  taken  place  ;  over  <^ne-half  of 
the  men  vs'ho  then  formed  ourreo^iment  have  left  us, 
a  large  number  being  either  killed  outright  or  have 
died  from  the  wounds  which  they  have  received. 
Qtiite  a  portion  of  them  were  converted  in  our  meet- 
ings last  winter.  I  am  so  grateful  that  they  made 
their  peace  with  God  and  were  thus  prepared  for 
death.  It  is  my  prayer  each  day  that  I  may  also  be 
ready  when  I  am  called.  Every  thing  here  is  in  a 
most  demoralized  condition.  It  has  been  nothing 
but  defeat  all  the  season  thus  far.      It  is  not  for  me 


The    Toiing    Volttnteer.  153 

to  say  where  the  blame  rests.  It  is  rumored  that 
the  Confederate  army,  under  General  Lee,  is  cross- 
ing the  Potomac  river  near  Harper's  Ferry,  to  in- 
vade Maryland  and  Pennsylvania.  Our  men  are  all 
in  good  spirits.  If  our  commanding  generals  were 
as  efficient  as  our  men,  all  would  l)e  well.  My  health 
still  continues  good.  My  old  friend,  Bill  Logan,  of 
whom  I  have  so  often  written,  is  also  well ;  but  he 
came  very  near  death  or  capture  at  the  battle  of 
Fair  Oaks.  Dan  Eliott,  the  converted  gambler, 
whom  I  have  already  mentioned,  is  the  bravest  man 
I  ever  saw.  There  is  something  mysterious  about 
him  that  I  cannot  understand.  He  is  the  best  sol- 
dier in  our  company.  I  will  write  you  from  the 
next  battle  field  if  I  am.  alive  and  able  to  do  so.  As 
I  have  written  you  before,  I  shall  endeavor  to  do 
my  duty  whether  the  lesult  be  victory  or  defeat,  life 
or  death.  We  are  under  marching  orders,  and  will 
soon  meet  our  enemies  again." 

While  the  army  was  being  re-organized,  Lieut. 
Newton's  time  was  completely  occupied  in  writing 
letters,  looking  after  the  interests  of  his  men  and 
drilling  the  large  number  of  recruits  sent  forward  to 
fill  the  thinned  ranks  of  his  company.     The  arrival 


154  Will  Ne-wton^ 

of  these  recruits  and  the  many  amusing  incidents 
arisincr  from  their  lack  of  experience  in  army  mat- 
ters, afforded  much  diversion  and  amusement  for 
the  old  soldiers.  One  of  these  recruits,  with  a  must 
doleful  look  upon  his  face,  walking  along  the 
street  in  Newton's  company  the  morning  after  his 
arrival,  with  several  mouldy  hard  biscuits  in  his 
hands,  was  accosted  by  a  waggish  veteran  who  met 
him, — "Why  on  earth  don't  you  go  and  get  some 
soft-tack  r" 

"Where  can  it  be  had?"  asked  the  other,  as  the 
shadow  fled  from  his  countenance. 

^,'Go  up  to  that  large  tent  and  tell  the  colonel  that 
you  have  come  for  your  soft-tack,  and  it  will  be  all 
right,"  replied  the  wag. 

Up  the  unsuspecting  fellow  walked,  knocked 
boldly  at  the  colonel's  tent,  and  when  that  officer 
appeared  at  the  door  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  his 
coming,  the  recruit  with  the  greatest  amount  of 
confidence  informed  him  that  "he  had  come  up  to 
get  his  rations  of  soft- tack."  Of  course  the  colonel 
understood  the  joke,  and  with  a  hearty  laugh  sent 
the  victim  back  to  his  company  with  his  wants  un- 
supplied. 


The   Toinig    Volunteer.  155 

Another  one  of  this  class  was  standino-  at  his  tent 
door  soon  after  his  arrival  looking  ruefully  upon 
his  soiled  collar  which  had  been  white  a  few  days 
before.  He  saw  that  the  usefulness  of  the  article 
in  his  hands  was  forever  destroyed,  and  he  was 
wondering  where  another  supply  could  be  obtained  ; 
for  he  did  not  then  understand  that  white  collars 
had  been  fearfully  discounted  in  the  arm}'.  The 
fellow's  situation  was  soon  observed  bv  several  of 
the  boys,  and  one  of  them  whose  sun-burnt  neck 
had  not  been  enclosed  by  a  collar  for  more  than  a 
year,  asked  the  recruit  where  he  expected  to  get  his 
collars. 

"I  don't  know,"  was  the  desjDondent  reply  ;  "How 
do  you  fellows  get  along?" 

"Oh,  said  the  veteran,  when  we  o-et  out  we 
usually  make  out  a  requisition  and  send  it  in  for 
them."  All  the  necessary  information  was  soon 
obtained,  and  the  grateful,  but  verdant  soldier  pro- 
ceeded to  make  out  a  list  of  the  number  of  boxes  of 
collars  needed  ;  the  size  and  stvle  beins:  sfiven  with 
great  precision. 

"Now  what  shall  I  do  with  it?"  he  queried. 

"Oh,  go  up  and  give  it  to  the  quartermaster,"  said 
the  other.  "He  is  a  savaore  old  fellow  and  will  scold 


156  Will  Newton^ 

and  bluster  ;  but  he  draws  his  pay  for  his  work  and 
you  hang  to  him." 

Up  to  the  quartermaster  the  fellow  walked  almost 
feeling  the  inspiration  of  the  new  clean  collars 
around  his  neck.  The  quartermaster  ^vith  a  large 
force  of  clerks  wei*e  busily  engnged  upon  their 
accounts,  for  there  had  been  necessarily  much  con- 
fusion in  this  department  during  the  previous  cam- 
paign. It  being  a  business  call,  the  recruit  did  not 
stop  to  knock,  but  entered  the  tent  and  walked  up 
to  the  officer,  holding  out  his  paper  and  saying : 
"There  is  a  requisition  which  you  will  please  attend 
to  immediately."  The  quartermaster  was  so  deeply 
absorbed  in  the  bills  for  rations,  clothing,  muskets 
and  epuipments,  that  for  a  moment  he  did  not 
notice  the  intruder  ;  and  the  latter  with  some  vigor 
repeated  his  statement.  The  officer  looked  at  him 
sharply  a  moment,  and  then  surmising  that  the  man 
Avas  the  victim  of  some  joke,  and  not  being  in  a 
sportive  frame  of  mind  himself,  savagely  remarked, 
"You  get  out  of  this  tent !"  But  the  recruit  stood  his 
ground.  His  comrades  in  the  company  had  warned 
him  \vhat  to  expect,  and  he  was  determined  to 
have  his  rights.  To  the  utter  amazement  of  the 
angry  officer  he  replied,  "Now  look  here,  old  fellow  ; 


The    Young    Volunteer .  157 

don't  put  on  airs  to  me,  the  government  pa}V5  you  a 
good  salar}^,  and  you  have  got  to  attend  to  your 
business,  or  I  will  know  the  reason  why  I"  He  was 
interrupted  by  the  quartermaster,  who,  livid  with 
passion,  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  with  a  volley  of 
indignation  seized  the  recruit  by  the  shoulder  and 
hurled  him  from  the  tent.  The  crest-fallen  man 
then  comprehended  for  the  first  time  that  he  had 
been  sold  ;  but  derived  some  satisfaction  as  he  went 
back  to  his  comrades  to  have  them  gather  around 
him  and  exclaim,  "The  quartermaster  is  an  awful 
man  when  he  is  aroused."  And  thus  the  men  who 
but  a  few  days  before  fought  like  veterans  in  battle, 
were  sporting  like  boys  while  in  camp. 


11 


CHAPTER    IX. 

The  army  of  the  Potomac  was  once  more  on  the 
march  in  search  of  its  old  enemy.  The  Confed- 
erate army  had  crossed  the  Potomac  river,  invading 
the  States  of  INlaryland  and  Pennsylvania,  seizing 
large  quantities  of  grain  and  much  stock  which 
they  were  transferring  across  the  river  to  Virginia. 

The  Union  army  once  more  under  the  command 
of  General  McClellan.  was  marchino^  throuo^h 
Maryland  in  the  direction  of  Frederick  city  to  inter- 
cept the  Confederates.  It  was  early  in  the  month 
of  September,  and  the  beautiful  State  of  Maryland 
Avas  then  seen  at  its  best.  Its  fertile  fields  were 
covered  with  magnificent  crops  which  were  just 
being  harvested  ;  the  great  orchards  were  burdened 
with  fruit ;  cattle  were  grazing  peacefully  upon  its 
hill-sides  until  they  were  alarmed  by  the  sounds  of 
war. 

Frederick  city  was  reached  by  the  advance  of  the 
Federal  army,  but  the  Confederates  had  evacuated 
the  place,  and  were  reported  as  being  some  twenty 


The    Toung    Volunteer,  159 

miles  away  to  the  westward,  where  they  were  wait- 
ing for  their  foe  to  attack  them,  in  the  passes  of  the 
South  Mountain.  The  citizens  of  Frederick  all 
eave  thrillino;  accounts  of  the  destitution  and 
demoralization  apparent  in  the  army  of  General 
Lee.  His  soldiers  were  ragged,  barefooted,  and 
almost  starving.  The  Federals  had  high  hopes  that 
the  coming  battle  would  be  the  decisive  one  of  the 
war.  They  pressed  on  and  soon  came  in  collision 
with  the  Confederates  in  Turner's  Gap  and  in  South 
Mountain  pass.  The  conflict  was  short,  sharp  and 
desperate.  The  Confederates  were  driven  back, 
and  the  Federals  crossed  to  the  west  side  of  the 
mountain.  Had  General  AlcClellan  pressed  the 
pursuit  with  vigor,  the  Confederate  army  could  then 
have  been  crushed  in  detail  before  it  had  time  to 
concentrate  its  widely  scattered  divisions  ;  but  wuth 
that  element  of  fatal  delay  always  seen  in  his  cam- 
paigns, much  time  of  great  value  was  lost;  time 
that  was  well  improved  by  the  skillful  Confederate 
commanders. 

•  On  the  night  of  September  16,  the  two  great 
armies  were  encamped  on  the  banks  of  the  Antie- 
tam — that  narrow  stream  between  them.  Early  on 
the  morning  of  the  17th,  the  battle  began.     Will's 


i6o  IVi/l  Newton^ 

regiment  was  on  the  extreme  right  of  the  Union 
line,  under  th^  immediate  command  of  General 
Hooker.  They  being  in  the  front  line,  became 
engaged  with  the  enemy  at  an  early  hour.  Their 
antagonists  were  a  portion  of  Hood's  Texan  brigade 
and  among  the  most  gallant  troops  in  the  Confed- 
erate service.  Newton's  regiment  was  ordered  to 
drive  the  rebels  from  a  narrow  strip  of  wood  in 
their  front  and  across  a  corn  field  bevond.  After 
a  sharp  struggle,  the  Confederates  "^vere  driven  across 
the  field,  the  Unionists  pursuing  them  savagely. 
The  bra^■e  Texans  halted  in  the  woods  beyond,  and 
poured  such  a  deadly  fire  upon  the  Federals  that 
their  advance  was  checked.  They  stood  in  the  edge 
of  the  corn  field  and  poured  their  fire  upon  tlie 
Confederates  in  the  woods.  Suddenly,  and  with 
terrific  vengeance,  the  Confederates  charged  upon 
them.  The  struggle  was  short  and  deadly  but  the 
Confederates  were  repulsed.  They  were  soon  re-in- 
forced,  and  again  threw  themselves  upon  the  Fed- 
erals. The  latter  held  their  ground  firmly,  their  little 
line  seeming:  to  be  but  a  flame  of  fire.  The  conflict 
lasted  until  both  lines  were  completely  shattered. 
The  Confederates,  receiving  more  re-inforcements, 
pushed  their  foes  backw^ard.    For  a  time  the  Federals 


The    Young    Volunteer.  i6i 

went  slowly  ;  but  finally  as  if  by  common  consent, 
broke  and  ran  for  the  shelter  of  the  wood  behind 
them. 

The  colonel,  who  already  had  several  horses  shot 
under  him,  was  still  riding  among  his  men,  the 
very  incarnation  of  heroism,  and  as  if  he  bore  a 
charmed  life.  Encouraging  them  to  stand  firm,  he 
dashed  down  to  the  left  of  his  regiment  hoping  to 
hasten  up  some  re-inforcements  ;  and  it  was  during 
his  temporary  absence  that  his  men  fell  back  to  the 
wood.  Not  knowino^  that,  dashino;  back  throusfh 
the  smoke  to  find  his  regiment,  he  suddenly  found 
himself  among  the  most  advanced  of  the  Confed- 
erates. They  called  upon  him  to  surrender,  but  he 
endeavored  to  escape.  He  had  managed  to  ride  out 
from  among  them,  and  was  approaching  the  wood, 
when  a  full  volley  was  fired  at  him,  and  the  horse 
and  his  rider  both  went  down  together.  Will 
Newton  saw  the  peril  of  his  beloved  commander, 
and  shouting  ;  "Boys,  we  must  rescue  our  colonel !" 
He  dashed  towards  the  fallen  man  who  was  fully 
two  hundred  yards  distant.  Instantly  the  men 
followed  him  with  a  cheer,  and  ran  across  the  field 
that  was  red  with  blood  and  swept  by  the  enemy's 
fire.     Will  Newton  was  a  swift  runner,  and  on  this 


1 62  Will   Nezvton^ 

occasion  bis  anxiety  almost  gave  him  wings.  When 
he  reached  the  fallen  officer  all  his  men  were  Tar  in 
the  rear  save  one  ;  that  man  was  brave  Dan  Eliott^ 
A  score  of  Confederates  confronted  them  and 
hundreds  more  were  hastening  up.  There  was  no 
time  to  lose  ;  both  men  sprang  in  front  of  their  dis- 
abled leader  to  protect  his  person  with  their  lives. 

At  that  moment  Newton  received  a  blow  over 
his  head  from  the  stock  of  a  Confederate  rifle  and 
fell  senseless  upon  the  form  of  the  colonel.  Dan 
Eliott  stood  alone  with  clubbed  musket  to  beat  them 
back,  but  a  rifle  ball  shattered  his  left  hand  and 
arm,  and  his  musket  fell  at  his  feet.  The  rebels 
cheered  and  rushed  upon  him.  Eliott  glared  around 
him  like  a  maniac.  Upon  the  ground  he  saw  a 
huge,  heavy  cavalry  saber  ;  he  caught  it  up  in  his 
right  hand  and  fought  like  a  demon  ;  bare  headed, 
his  left  arm  shattered  to  atoms,  he  stood  above  the 
forms  of  those  whom  he  was  determined  to  defend. 
His  eyes  gleamed  w^ith  intense  passion,  all  the  fires 
of  desperation  kindled  by  association  with  miners 
and  Indians  seemed  to  burst  forth  in  a  livid  flame. 
The  saber  swept  through  the  air,  making  a  circle 
around  him,  andw^herever  it  came  do\vn  there  was 
death.     The  brave  Texans  shrank  back  beyond  the 


The    Toiing    Volunteer.  163 

point  of  that  dreaded  weapon  and  began  to  fire 
upon  the  hero  who  stood  before  them.  A  shot 
entered  his  leg,  another  went  tearing  through  his 
cheek  ;  a  cruel  ball  went  crashing  through  his  breast, 
and  as  he  fell  backward  he  saw  that  his  comrades 
had  arrived  and  that  his  charge  was  safe. 

The  battle  was  soon  over  upon  the  Federal  right, 
and  a  little  group  of  men  could  have  been  seen  just 
in  rear  of  the  line  of  battle ;  the  wounded  man 
lying  upon  the  ground  was  Dan  Eliott ;  the  others 
were  Will  Newton,  Bill  Logan  and  one  or  two 
comrades.  Newton  had  been  bathing  the  temples 
of  the  wounded  man  with  water ;  he  opened 
his  eyes  ;  a  smile  of  joy  came  to  his  lips  as  he  saw 
Newton,  and  he  hoarsely  whispered,  "How  are 
you  r 

"All  right,"  said  Will.  "I  was  only  stunned  by 
the  blow  I  received." 

"And  the  colonel?" 

"Is  badly  used  up,"  replied  Will.  "A shot  in  the 
shoulder  and  a  broken  leg  at  least." 

« 

"Newton,  raise  my  head  higher  if  you  can," 
feebly  said  Dan  Eliott.  "I  want  to  say  a  few  things 
to  you  if  I  have  strength." 


164  Wi//  Ne'wto?!^ 

The  head  of  the  wounded  man  was  gently  raised 
and  a  knapsack  placed  beneath  it.  Once  more  the 
purple  lips  of  Eliott  were  moistened  with  water, 
and  after  a  moment's  silence  he  began  :  "It  is  of  no 
use  to  waste  words  ;  I  am  a  dying  man.  I  knew 
when  I  faced  them  fellows  alone  that  they  held  the 
winning  hand  ;  but  I  was  determined  to  make  them 
earn  their  money.  Thev  have  succeeded  in  doing 
what  a  o^reat  many  other  men  have  failed  to  do  ;  but 
they  had  to  pay  for  all  the  honor  they  won.  Now 
there  are  some  things  I  would  like  to  tell  you  if  you 
will  consent  to  listen  to  me  ;  I  have  carried  them  in 
my  ow^n  breast  for  many  years  ;  I  shall  die  easier  if 
I  can  talk  them  over  with  some  one." 

"My  dear  friend,"  said  Newton,  "proceed  ;  I  will 
gladly  listen,  for  I  owe  my  life  and  liberty  to  you." 

"It  is  a  long  story  and  I  fear  that  you  wnll  get 
tired  ;  but  I  am  so  weak  that  I  can  not  talk  very 
fast.  I  w^as  born  in  the  state  of  New  York  in  tSi6, 
so  that  I  am  now^  forty-six  years  old.  I  lived  in 
New  York  until  I  w  as  twenty-four  years  of  age. 
For  two  years  I  had  been  engaged  to  be  married  to 
a  girl  whose  father  lived  in  my  neighborhood.  She 
sickened  and  died  ;  my  hope,  light,  love  and  life 
were  all  buried  in  her  grave.    I  thought  that  I  should 


The    Toiing    V^oluiiteer.  165 

become  insane  if  I  remained  there 'and  immediately 
left  home  for  Ohio,  then  considered  a  frontier  State. 
My  family  and  friends  knew  nothing  of  where  I 
went.  I  was  with  trappers  and  Indians  until  the 
gold  fever  broke  out  in  1849.  During  those  years 
I  had  tried  to  drown  my  great  sorrow,  but  all  in 
vain.  I  drank,  gambled,  plunged  into  the  wildest 
of  excesses,  sought  out  the  greatest  dangers,  but  it 
was  of  no  use  ;  the  fire  in  my  heart  continued  to 
burn  until  it  seemed  as  if  the  very  core  of  my  life 
would  be  eaten  out.  In  1S49,  ^"  company  with  a 
party  of  hunters  and  Indians,  I  went  across  the 
plains  to  California.  I  remained  there  eleven  years 
and  made  thousands  of  dollars,  but  the  gold  brought 
me  no  satisfaction.  I  gave  a^vay  money  like  water 
but  always  made  more.  In  1S60  I  went  with  a 
party  of  chums  down  through  Mexico,  and  gold 
poured  in  upon  me  there.  Early  in  1S61  I  was 
possessed  with  a  desire  to  return  to  my  old  home. 
I  did  so  ;  but  mv  relatives  were  all  dead  and  no  one 
cared  for  me.  I  asked  for  Bob  Eliott.  A  few  re- 
membered him  and  said  that  he  had  disappeared 
many  years  before  ;  no  one  knew  or  cared  where  he 
was.  I  found  Mary's  grave.  Her  family  had  all 
removed  to  another  portion    of  the  country.     I  sat 


1 66  Will  Ne-juton, 

beside  that  grave  for  hours  ;  my  brain  was  on  fire,. 
I  dared  not  remain  longer.  I  went  to  the  parish 
minister  and  gave  him  a  bag  of  golden  coins  and 
told  him  to  build  a  monument  over  her  grrave.  I 
rushed  on  to  Boston,  enlisted  and  soon  afterw^ards 
met  you.  Through  your  influence  I  became  a 
Christian  man  and  thus  found  the  only  peace  and 
rest  that  I  have  known  since  I  bade  Mary  'good 
bye.'" 

Newton  was  listening  with  tears  streaming  down 
his  cheeks. 

"Now^,  Newton,  if  you  will  help  me  turn  over  a 
little  there  is  a  pocket-book  in  my  inside  pocket  that 
I  want." 

Will  Newton  assisted  his  dying  friend  and  soon 
produced  an  old  leathern  pocket-book  that  had  seen 
many  years  of  service.  The  cold  fingers  of  Dan 
Eliott,  as  \ve  shall  continue  to  call  him,  slowly 
opened  the  book.  He  took  therefrom  a  folded  paper 
handed  it  to  his  listener  and  said,  "In  San  Francisco 
I  have  ten  thousand  dollars.  In  that  paper  are  the 
certificates  of  my  deposits ;  also  a  paper  legally 
prepared  by  me  when  in  Washington,  wdiereby  I 
have  transferred  it  to  the  parties  whom  I  shall  now 
name  : — Bill  Logan  is  my  tent  mate  ;  if  he  lives  to 


The    7'oung    Volunteei'.  i6j 

obtain  his  discharge  I  want  him  to  have  one-half  of 
it;  if  he  dies  while  in  the  army,  his  half  goes  to 
you.  The  remaining  half  I  have  already  assigned 
to  you  by  these  papers,  and  in  case  of  your  death, 
it  goes  to  those  persons  whom  you  may  name." 

The  astonished  Newton  was  about  to  express  his 
gratitude,  but  the  dying  man  forbade  it.  "I  have 
more  to  say  and  but  a  few  moments  to  live.  I  am 
not  worthy  to  be  buried  beside  Mary,  and  when  I 
am  dead  bury  me  in  some  cemetery  near  by.  Put 
me  in  some  lowly  corner ;  do  not  mark  the  grave, 
only  give  me  a  decent  burial." 

Another  little  package  was  taken  from  the  pocket 
book,  a  small  article  tied  up  in  thin  tissue  paper. 
Feebly  he  unrolled  it ;  a  little  old  style  picture,  faded 
by  time,  bruised  and  scarred, was  in  his  hand.  "This 
is  Mary,  my  Mary,"  he  murmured,  as  with  stream- 
ing eyes  he  gazed  upon  it.  "Bury  this  with  me. 
Ah,  Mary  !  we  have  been  separated  for  a  long  time. 
I  know  you  have  not  forgotten  me.  I  am  coming 
over  the  range  ;  you  will  see  me  before  the  sun  goes- 
down."  A  sweet,  child-like  smile  played  upon  his 
dark  features.  "I  am  coming,  Mary,"  he  softly- 
whispered,  and  he  was  dead. 


1 68  Will  Neivton, 

Will  Newton  was  overwhelmed  with  gfrief.  He 
threw  himself  beside  the  dead  man  and  cried,  "Oh, 
my  brave,  noble,  generous  friend,  I  cannot  give  you 
up."  Bill  Logan  and  a  few  others  with  sorrowful 
hearts  and  tearful  eyes  gathered  around  to  console 
their  friend.  As  soon  as  Will  could  command  him- 
self he  called  Bill  Logan  aside  to  explain  matters  to 
him,  so  that  in  case  of  his  death  Logan  would  not 
be  deprived  of  his  legacy. 

When  Bill  was  made  to  understand  what  his  com- 
rade had  left  him,  he  too,  broke  down  and  wept  as 
if  his  heart  would  break.  As  he  was  trying  to  rally 
from  his  emotion,  he  said,  "Newton,  excuse  me  ; 
it  is  not  often  that  I  run  at  the  scuppers  like  this, 
but  just  to  think  that  poor  Dan  should  do  so  much 
for  me.     It  is  more  than  I  can  stand." 

New^ton  and  Logan  arranged  to  divide  the  night 
between  them  watching  the  remains  of  their  friend, 
and  on  the  following  morning  Will  Newton  rode 
back  to  the  small  village  of  Boonsboro,  just  w^est  of 
the  South  Mountain  Gap,  in  full  view  of  the  battle 
field  and  purchased  a  lot  in  the  little  cemetery  for 
his  friend.  It  was  a  beautiful  lot  under  the  shade 
of  a  noble  oak.  A  good  casket  was  secured.  The 
whole  company  marched  down  with  reversed  arms 


The    Young    Volunteer.  169 

to  the  funeral,  and  stood  with  uncovered  heads  while 
the  village  pastor  performed  the  burial  service. 
Three  vollies  were  fired  above  his  grave,  and  his 
comrades  said  "good  bye"  to  all  that  was  mortal  of 
Dan  Eliott. 

Young  Newton,  on  tlie  following  day,  went  to  a 
lawyer  and  had  the  papers  given  him  by  Eliott  so 
arranged,  that  in  case  of  his  death  the  money  should 
be  paid  to  the  order  of  Jerry  Lamb,  to  be  held  by 
him  in  trust  to  be  used  for  the  benefit  of  orphan 
children  in  the  village  of  Maplewood.  All  the  pa- 
pers with  explanations  were  then  sent  to  Mr.  Lamb. 

"Don't  it  beat  the  world  !"  said  the  latter.  "That 
boy  always  finds  friends  ;  and  then  see  what  confi- 
dence he  puts  in  me.  Well,  I  only  hope  he  will  live 
to  come  back  and  enjoy  the  fortune  he  has  so  unex- 
pectedly gained." 

For  several  days  after  the  battle  of  Antietam,  the 
Federal  troops  were  busily  engaged  in  burying 
their  dead,  and  also  those  of  the  Confederates  who 
had  been  left  upon  the  battle  field,  for  General  Lee 
in  making  his  skillful  and  rapid  retreat  across  the 
Potomac  had  left  a  large  portion  of  his  dead  un- 
buried.  Will  Newton  walked  across  the  field  while 
the  various  details    of  troops  were    thus  occupied, 


1 7©  Will  Newton. 

and  ^vas  thus  enabled  to  see  what  a  terrible  slaughter 
there  had  been  in  both  armies  during  the  battle.  It 
was  a  v^ery  sad  spectacle  thus  presented  to  his  view  ; 
hundreds  of  lifeless  men,  who  but  a  short  time  be- 
fore were  among  the  flower  of  the  hostile  armies, 
now  cold  and  dead.  The  burial  parties  becoming 
accustomed  to  handling  the  dead  bodies,  buried 
them  much  as  they  would  have  buried  mere  ani- 
mals. The  great  object  being  to  get  them  concealed 
from  view.  Thev  were  buried  in  trenches,  and  where 
tw^enty  or  more  could  be  covered,  placed  in  a  single 
trench  ;  also  in  smaller  and  larger  numbers  as  the  cir- 
cumstances would  warrant.  In  some  instances  where 
it  was  not  convenient  to  dig  trenches,  the  bodies 
were  thrown  into  deep  wells  and  then  covered  with 
earth  and  rocks. 

Many  persons  delight  to  speak  of  the  glories  of 
war  ;  but  such  scenes  as  Will  New^ton  witnessed 
upon  the  battle  field  of  Antietam,  taught  him  that 
at  best  war  is  only  murder  on  a  tremendous  scale, 


and  in  a  most  aggravated  form.  And  while  he,  in 
his  intense  loyalty  for  his  country,  saw  the  necessity 
of  all  Union  men  standing  in  defense  of  their  flag, 
he  deeply  deplored  the  fact  that  such  a  terrible  con- 
flict had  been  forced  upon  the  country. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A  few  days  after  the  events  narrated  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter,  Will  Newton  was  suddenly  seized 
by  some  disease,  the  symptoms  being  those  of 
typhoid  fever.  The  surgeons,  after  a  critical  exami- 
nation of  his  case,  decided  that  absolute  quiet  and 
rest  was  necessary.  "But  where  can  that  be 
obtained .?"  wearily  asked  the  patient,  as  he  turned 
upon  his  coarse  blankets.  "I  will  go  and  find  you 
some  such  a  place,"  kindly  responded  the  surgeon, 
as  he  left  the  sutiering  man. 

A  few  hours  later,  the  surgeon  returned,  and 
reported  that  he  had  found  a  splendid  place  for  his 
patient.  A  fine  Union  family  of  wealth  and  intel- 
ligence who  lived  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
battle  field,  had  kindly  consented  to  have  the  young 
officer  removed  to  their  home  where  he  could 
remain  until  he  was  fully  recovered.  The  matter 
was  soon  arranged.  Bill  Logan  was  to  go  with  him 
as  an  attendant,   and  an   ambulance  soon  conveyed 


172  Will  Nezvton^ 

Newton  and  his  friend  from  the  tent  of  the  former 
to  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Judge  Johnson. 

The  members  of  Will  Newton's  company  were 
all  very  sorry  to  ha\'e  their  commander  leave  them. 
They  shook  their  heads  sadly  as  the  ambulance 
rolled  away;  one  of  them  remarking,  "We  shall 
never  see  him  again."  ''I  fear  that  we  shall  not," 
responded  another;  "and  I  am  very  sure  that  we 
shall  never  see  another  officer  like  him."  After 
exchanging  many  remarks  about  Newton's  kindness 
and  bravery,  the  men  dispersed  to  their  quarters. 

The  family  of  Judge  Johnson  gave  Will  Newton 
a  genuine  Southern  welcome,  and  gladly  did  all  in 
their  power  to  aid  in  the  work  of  recovery.  Old 
"mammy,"  the  colored  nurse,  who  had  been  in  the 
family  from  the  time  that  Judge  Johnson  was  born, 
was  to  her  great  delight  appointed  as  special  nurse 
for  the  young  man. 

"Golly,  guess  ole  mamni}-  kin  fetch  the  voung 
ossifer  round  if  any  body  kin,"  proudly  remarked 
the  old  woman,  as  she  took  her  station  by  his  side. 
"Pears  like  as  if  ole  massa  Linkum  had  sent  de 
chile  he-ar  for  ole  mammy  to  take  care  of.  Guess 
massa  Linkum  am  a  berry  lebel-headed  man,  and 
dis  chile  wdll   show  him  dat  he  is  not  mistooken  in 


The    Toung    Yohniteer,  173 

his  obpinion."  But  notwithstanding  the  skill  of 
physicians,  the  kindness  of  friends,  the  attention  of 
ole  mammy  and  the  watchful  care  of  Bill  Logan, 
there  w^ere  long  days  and  weeks  of  suffering  for 
Will  New^ton  to  pass  through.  His  nervous  system 
had  been  completely  exhausted,  which  with  the 
terrible  blow  he  had  received  upon  his  head,  nearly 
sent  him  to  his  grave.  For  a  number  of  davs  he 
was  completely  unconscious  of  all  events  transpiring 
around  him  ;  but  notwithstanding  all  the  unfavorable 
conditions  in  his  case,  the  crisis  was  successfully 
passed,  and  he  began  slowdy  to  recover.  Not  a  day 
had  passed  but  what  a  delegation  from  his  company 
had  visited  the  house  to  inquire  after  their  com- 
mander ;  and  their  solicitude  for  his  welfare  revealed 
the  great  love  which  they  cherished  for  him. 

Before  Will  Newton  had  recovered,  the  army  of 
the  Potomac  was  once  more  under  marching  orders, 
and  Bill  Logan  was  preparing  to  return  to  his  regi- 
ment. One  afternoon,  he  sat  beside  the  bed  of 
Newton,  and  as  they  engaged  in  conversation, 
Logan  remarked,  ''I  shall  return  to  our  company 
to-morrow  and  I  have  one  favor  to  ask  of  you  before 
I  go." 

13 


174  ^^^^  JVewfon, 

"What  is  it,  Bill?"  replied  the  other. 

"In  case  I  should  be  killed  before  I  see  you  again 
that  I  may  be  buried  there  beside  Dan.  Do  you 
suppose  that  if  he  was  able  to  speak  he  would 
object?" 

Newton  was  much  afiected  by  the  solemn  words 
and  manner  of  the  other,  and  endeavored  to  laugfh 
at  his  fears.  "Of  course  you  shall  be  buried  there 
when  you  die  if  you  desire  it :  but  Logan,  you  will 
live  to  go  back  to  New  England  and  make  several 
voyages  around  the  world  yet."  laughed  Will. 

But  Logan  only  shook  his  head.  "My  next  voyage 
Will,  is  one  from  which  no  one  returns,  a  shoreless 
sea  ;  but  I  am  not  afraid  to  go." 

"Do  not  go  back  to  the  regiment,"  interrupted 
Newton.  "You  shall  not  oo.  I  can  have  vou  detailed 
to  remain  with  me  until  I  return." 

"No,"  answered  Bill  ;  "that  would  not  be  right; 
I  have  enlisted  with  the  rest,  and  shall  stand  my 
reo^ular  watch  and  share  mv  danger  with  them.  I 
have  made  all  mv  arrangrements  to  ofo  in  the  morn- 
ing."- 

"Why  do  you  feel  so  positive  that  something  is  to 
happen  ?"  inquired  Newton.  '  ^  You  have  been  watch- 
ing with  me  so  long  you  have  become  nervous." 


r 


The    Young    V^oJunteer.  175 

"Not  at  all  sir,"  said  Logan.  "I  have  had  a  dream, 
don't  laugh  now  ;  but  in  a  dream  it  has  all  been  made 
plain  to  me." 

"Oh,  it  is  only  a  dream,"  laughed  Will,  "and 
they  always  turn  out  just  opposite  from  what  we 
expect  them  to  be.  Now  I  am  sure  you  will  live 
for  fifty  years,  and  we  will,  when  we  get  home, 
enjoy  life  together." 

"No  !  No  I"  interrupted  the  other.  "Dreams  of 
this  kind  do  not  come  to  pass  in  opposites.  I  never 
had  but  one  like  it  before,  and  God  knows  that  came 
to  pass  with  a  terrible  reality." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  "said  Will,  hoping  to  divert  his 
companion's  mind  from  the  painful  theme  upon 
which  he  had  been  talking. 

"I  don't  care  to  spin  the  yarn,"  remarked  Logan  ; 
■"but  I  will  do  so  if  you  care  to  listen.  It  took 
place  a  number  of  years  ago,  when  I  was  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age.  We  were  on  the  Indian 
ocean  ;  our  voyage  had  been  very  successful  up  to 
that  time.  We  had  a  fine  ship  of  some  fifteen  hundred 
tons ;  our  officers  and  crew  were  all  excellent 
sailors,  but  a  very  profane  lot  of  men,  and  I  was 
as  bad  as  an}'  of  them.  The  old  man  was  a  tiger  ; 
good  and  kind  to  his  men,  but  a  terrible  fellow  to 


176  Wi'/l  Newton^ 

make  things  rush.  The  wind  had  been  favorable 
and  we  were  flying  day  after  day  with  every  inch 
of  canvas  spread.  The  old  man  was  delighted  and 
swore  that  he  \vould  make  the  quickest  voyage  ever 
inade.  One  night  my  watch  turned  in  at  midnight ;. 
the  sky  was  clear  and  the  sea  smooth  as  glass  ;  the 
ship  was  making  about  nine  knots  an  hour.  1  soon 
fell  asleep,  and  \vhile  in  that  condition,  saw  as 
plainly  as  I  see  you  a  typhoon  strike  the  ship  and 
make  a  complete  ^vreck  of  it.  The  typhoon  came 
directly  from  the  point  we  were  making,  while  for 
a  few  leagues  on  either  side  of  it  there  was  perfect 
calm,  and  consequently,  safety.  I  saw  the  whole 
thing  ;the  masts  going  by  the  board  ;  the  ship  on  her 
beam  ends  ;  the  crash  of  timbers  ;  the  shouts  and 
srroans  of  the  men  ;  the  howlino-of  the  storm  ;  mak- 
ing  up  a  scene  I  shall  never  forget.  I  awoke,  and 
springing  from  my  hammock,  rushed  on  deck. 
Every  thing  was  as  calm  as  it  was  at  midnight.  I 
returned  to  my  berth,  but  could  not  sleep.  The 
dream  had  made  such  an  impression  upon  me,  that 
early  in  the  morning,  I  went  into  the  cabin  and  told 
the  whole  thing  to  the  old  man  and  pleaded  with 
him  to  change  the  course  of  the  ship  a  few  points, 
that  we  might  thus  escape  the  danger  of  the  coming 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  177 

storm.  He  only  laughed  and  said,  "Boy,  you  are  a 
little  cranky  and  frightened.  Here,  take  a  stiff 
glass  of  grog  ;  it  will  stiffen  you  up.'  I  refused  the 
liquor,  and  after  having  once  more  pleaded  with 
him  to  change  his  course,  without  avail,  I  left  him. 
The  day  passed  as  several  of  the  preceding  ones 
had.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  barometer  began  to 
fall ;  but  there  were  no  visible  indications  of  a  storm. 
At  sunset  the  air  became  thick  and  close  ;  the  sky 
looked  red  and  angr}-,  and  as  the  night  came  on, 
the  captain  ordered  a  part  of  our  canvas  to  be  taken 
in  ;  but  the  good  ship  still  plunged, on  at  the  rate  of 
seven  or  eight  knots.  Suddenly  it  grew  dark  ;  the 
air  seemed  to  shiver  as  if  it  was  frightened  at  some- 
thing and  the  wind  began  to  sigh  and  whistle 
through  the  rigging.  The  old  man  gave  orders  to 
take  in  sail.  We  all  sprang  to  obey,  but  it  was  of 
no  use.  The  typhoon  had  struck  her,  and  in  less 
than  three  minutes,  ship  and  all  had  gone  down. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  storm  had  passed  and  I 
found  myself  clinging  to  a  piece  of  timber.  The 
sea  soon  became  smooth,  but  I  w^as  the  only  survivor. 
The  next  day,  I  was  picked  up  by  a  passing  ship, 
and  learned  that  the  track  of  the  storm  \vas  so 
narrow,  that  if  we  had  changed  our  course  in  either 


178  Wl/l  Ne-jcto)?, 

direction  for  a  few  hours  run  we  should  have  escaped 
it  entiielv.  I  tell  vou  that  some  dreams  must  not  be 
laughed  at." 

"That  was  indeed  a  singular  case,"  replied  New- 
ton. "But  what  about  the  one  you  have  just  spoken 
of,  that  which  makes  vou  so  solemn  V 

"Well,  I  can  tell  vou  in  a  short  time  and  Avith 
few^  words,"  continued  Logan.  "I  went  to  sleep 
this  morning  a  little  after  one  o'clock  and  dreamed 
just  as  I  did  before.  I  saw  our  regiment  in  a  terrible 
battle  ;  a  large  portion  of  our  men  were  soon  killed 
or  wounded,  and  we  were  defeated.  Just  as  we 
were  about  to  fall  back,  and  when  I  w\as  in  the  act 
of  encouraging  the  boys,  a  rifle  ball  went  through 
my  breast  and  I  fell.  I  wxnt  through  the  wdiole 
process  of  dying  as  naturally  and  actually  as  I  ever 
shall ;  things  around  me  became  diin  and  indistinct, 
w^hile  I  appeared  to  see  objects  afar  off,  and  I  seemed 
to  float  oft^  nearer  to  them.  There  were  people  on 
the  bank  above  me  ;  I  was  afraid  that  I  did  not  have 
strength  to  climb  up  ;  some  one  put  a  hand  down 
and  clasped  mine  ;  I  stood  beside  him,  and  do  you 
know,  it  was  Dan  Eliott,  with  a  beautiful  new^ 
wdiite  uniform  on?  I  never  saw  him  look  so  well, 
and  as  he  was  making  me  feel  at  home  I  woke  up. 


7he    To7(}ig    V^ohi7iteer.  179 

It  was  all  real  to  me.  I  shall  see  Dan  before  a  crreat 
while," — and  arising- from  the  chair  he  left  the  room. 

Will  Newton  was  overwhelemed  with  his  feel- 
ings ;  he  was  not  superstitious,  but  in  his  weak 
physical  condition  he  could  not  help  feeling  that 
some  sad  disaster  was  about  to  overtake  his  old 
friend.  Gladly  would  he  have  made  Lo^an  remain 
with  him,  until  he  should  return  to  his  resfiment, 
but  Logan  persisted  in  returning  before  the  com- 
mand crossed  the  Potomac  river,  and  on  the  day 
follow^ing  the  conversation  narrated  above,  after  a 
tender  farew^ell,  Logan  and  Newton  separated. 

For  several  days  after  Logan's  departure  Will 
Newton's  mind  was  filled  with  fearful  forebodins^s  : 
but  as  the  days  passed  his  old  cheerfulness  returned. 
Orders  had  been  issued  from  head-quarters  for  all 
the  sick  and  wounded  to  be  removed  to  Baltimore 
and  Washington,  and  W^ill  Newton  was  obliged  to 
leave  his  pleasant  quarters.  His  host  offered  to  con- 
vey him  to  Washington  ;  which  otter  Will  gladly 
accepted,  and  by  easv  stages  tiiey  made  it  a  most 
pleasant  journey. 

On  arriving  at  Washington  they  drove  directly 
to  one  of  the  principal  hotels  until  Will  could  ascer- 
tain in  what  hospital  he  was  to  be  located.       As  he 


I  So  Ji  ill  Ncxvtnn^ 

was  passing  up  the  steps  of  the  hotel  leaning  upon 
the  arm  of  his  Maryland  host,  he  was  surprised  to 
hear  his  name  called  several  times  by  some  person 
who  was  striving  to  push  through  the  dense  crowd 
to  reach  him.  You  can  imagine  his  surprise  when 
his  old  comrade,  Harry  Temple,  threw  his  arms 
around  his  neck  and  received  him  with  the  gfreatest 
manifestations  of  joy. 

As  soon  as  Harry  could  speak  he  exclaimed, 
"My  father  is  here  !"  and  turning  to  a  noble,  digni- 
fied gray  haired  man,  he  said,  "Father,  this  is  my 
old  friend  and  comrade,   Will  Newton." 

Mr.  Temple  received  Lieut.  Newton  in  the  most 
cordial  manner  and  again  thanked  him  for  all  that  he 
had  done  for  his  boy.  Newton  explained  to  them 
w^hy  he  was  there  and  that  he  knew  not  where  his 
home  would  be  while  in  the  city. 

"You  shall  remain  here  at  the  hotel  with  us," 
remarked  Mr.  Temple  ;  "for  we  are  to  remain  here 
several  weeks.  It  will  afford  me  great  pleasure  to 
entertain  you  as  my  guest." 

"I  am  very  grateful,  sir,"  replied  Will ;  "but  you 
forget  that  I  am  a  soldier  and  under  the  command 
of  superior  officers.     I  must  go  wherever  they  send 


me." 


The    loung    Volunteer.  i8i 

'^Have  no  fears  on  that  score,"  replied  the  other. 
"I  am  on  intimate  terms  of  friendship  with  both 
the  President  and  the  Secretary  of  War,  and  either 
of  them  will  gladly  grant  me  this  small  favor." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  Will  should  remain  at 
the  hotel. 

The  days  passed  rapidly.  His  old  friend  had 
much  to  tell  him  of  college  life  and  a  thousand 
questions  to  ask  about  the  regiment.  There  were 
drives  and  receptions,  for  Will's  Massachusetts 
friends  introduced  him  to  the  highest  circles  of  soci- 
ety, and  the  time  passed  very  pleasantly  to  them  all. 

Early  in  December,  Nevs^ton  received  a  telegram 
from  his  colonel  informing  him  that  he  would  be  in 
Washington  on  a  given  date,  en  route  for  the  front 
to  regain  his  regiment,  which  was  then  near  Fred- 
ericksburg, where  General  Burnside  was  preparing 
for  a  battle. 

New^ton  determined  to  go  to  the  front  with  him. 
In  vain  did  his  friends  urge  him  to  remain  ;  so  he 
bade  them  farewell,  and  in  company  with  the  colonel 
left  Washington  for  Falmouth,  a  small  village  in 
Virginia  near  Fredericksburg. 

On  their  route  the  two  friends  chatted  like 
school  boys.       The  colonel  informed   Will  that  his 


1 82  Will   Nezvton, 

wounds  were  not  all  healed  and  his  broken  les; 
was  so  weak  that  he  was  compelled  to  use  both  a 
crutch  and  cane  when  he  walked.  '*!  fear,"  laughed 
the  colonel,  as  he  looked  upon  Will's  pale,  thin 
countenance,  ''that  they  will  think  we  are  not  much 
of  a  re-inforcement ;  I,  on  crutches,  and  you  so  thin 
and  wasted  ;  but  I  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  the 
regiment  going  into  the  battle  without  being  there 
to  share  the  dangers  with  them.  But,  by  the  way, 
Newton,  what  became  of  that  soldier  who  defended 
us  in  the  corn  field  of  Antietam  }  At  that  time  I 
was  partially  unconscious  as  I  lay  beneath  my  horse  ; 
but  I  could  see  him,  bleeding  from  a  dozen  wounds 
and  swinging  that  bloody  saber,  as  he  kept  at  least 
twenty  Confederates  at  bay.  It  was  the  most  daring, 
reckless  exploit  that  I  ever  saw.  I  was  talking  with 
the  Governor  about  it  last  week,  and  he  intimated 
that  if  the  man  w^as  living  he  should  be  rev^'arded 
with  a  commission  for  his  bravery." 

"Poor  Dan  Eliott  is  dead,"  sadly  rem^arked  New- 
ton. "He  died  that  very  day.  He  received  a  mor- 
tal wound  just  as  our  men  arrived  and  I'escued  us." 

And  thus  the  two  brother  officers  passed  the 
hours,  and  as  the  sun  was  sinking  from  view  behind 


The    Toujig    V^olunteej'.  183 

the  hills  across  the  Rappahanock  river,  they  reached 
the  encampment  of  their  old  command. 

The  regiment  was  out  on  dress  parade  when  the 
colonel  and  Will  appeared  upon  the  parade  ground 
in  front  of  them.  When  the  men  saw  them  all  dis- 
cipline w^as  for  a  single  moment  forgotten,  and  to 
the  great  surprise  of  the  officer  in  command,  who 
had  not  noticed  the  arrivals,  threw  their  caps  in  the 
air,  giving  three  rousing  cheers  for  the  colonel,  and 
three  more  for  Lieutenant  Newton. 

The  regiment  was  speedily  dism.issed  from  the 
parade  and  the  men  by  scores  flocked  around  the 
new  comers  to  give  them  a  hearty  welcome. 

As  soon  as  it  was  possible  W^ill  Newton  went  to 
his  company.  The  captain  had  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  the  wounds  which  he  had  received  at  the 
battle  of  Fair  Oaks,  and  was  in  command.  Logan 
was  almost  overcome  with  joy  to  see  Newton  again. 
The  regiment  was  under  marching  orders,  and  on 
the  following  day  they  moved  in  the  direction  of 
Fredericksburg.  The  colonel  and  Newton  rode  in 
an  ambulance  as  neither  of  them  was  able  to  march. 

That  night  they  bivouacked  on  the  Stafford  hills, 
across  the  Rappahanock  river,  directly  opposite  the 
city.     Will  Newton  and  Logan  shared  each  other's 


184  W7//  Newton. 

blankets  for  the  night  and  conveised  in  low  tones 
long  after  then-  comrades  were  asleep.  Newton 
purposely  avoided  all  mention  of  the  matter  which 
had  pressed  so  heavily  upon  Logan's  mind  when  he 
bade  him  good  bye  in  Maryland.  They  talked  of 
the  past,  from  the  time  when  they  first  met  each 
other,  and  of  the  many  subsequent  adventures 
through  which  they  had  passed,  and  what  they  would 
do  if  they  should  live  to  return  to  New  England. 
But  Will  Newton  could  see  that  Logan's  apparent 
cheerfulness  was  all  assumed  and  that  some  melan- 
choly subject  was  pressing  upon  his  mind  ;  silently 
he  raised  his  heart  in  prayer  for  the  safety  of  his 
friend  during  the  coming  battle.  It  was  past  mid- 
night before  they  bade  each  other  good  night.  There 
was  but  little  sleep  for  Newton,  however  ;  he  was 
thinking  of  the  friend  beside  him.  Bill  Logan  slept 
soundly,  though  occasional  murmurings  would  come 
to  Newton.  He  listened,  but  could  only  hear  him 
say,  "Yes,  Dan,  I  am  coming."  And  thus  the  night 
passed  slowly  away. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

The  battle  of  Fredericksburg  bad  been  raging  for 
several  hours  with  desperate  fury  before  the  regi- 
ment of  Newton  was  ordered  across  the  river.  Ear- 
lier in  the  day  a  consultation  had  been  held  by  the 
colonel  and  Newton  to  decide  as  to  how  they  should 
get  into  the  battle,  as  neither  of  them  was  able  to 
walk  a  great  distance.  The  surgeon  and  all  the 
officers  advised  them  to  remain  where  they  were, 
but  neither  ot  them  would  listen  to  that  for  a  mo- 
ment. So  it  was  finally  arranged  that  they  should 
both  go  on  horseback. 

It  was  quite  late  in  the  afternoon  when  they 
were  ordered  across  the  riNer.  The  battle  was  be- 
ing decided  against  the  Federals,  and  their  division 
was  designated  to  make  a  charge  and  thus  endeavor 
to  carry  the  famous  stone  wall  and  the  heights  be- 
yond. Their  line  was  formed  in  rear  of  the  city 
and  within  point-blank  range  of  the  Confederate 
guns.  The  colonel  and  Will  Newton  were  the  only 
wounded  officers  in  the  regiment  on  that  occasion. 


1 86  Will  Ne-wton^ 

It  was  a  reckless  undertaking:  for  them  to  endeavor 
to  ride  across  the  open  field  every  square  inch  of 
which  was  raked  by  the  enemy's  fire  ;  but  if  they 
did  not  ride  they  could  not  go,  and  they  ^vould  not 
consent  to  remain  behind.  The  order  v^^as  given. 
The  regiment  sprang  to  its  feet  and  upon  the  double- 
quick  dashed  across  the  field  towards  the  Confeder- 
ate works.  A  murderous  fire  was  poured  upon 
them  but  they  pressed  on.  Much  to  Newton's  dis- 
gust, before  he  had  proceeded  far,  his  horse  was  shot 
dead,  and  not  being  able  to  keep  up  with  the  men 
he  was  obliged  to  return  to  the  city  and  with  the 
deepest  anxiety  wait  for  the  result  of  the  conflict. 
There  could  be  but  one  result  to  such  an  undertak- 
ing. The  desperate  valor  and  reckless  sacrifice  of 
life  could  avail  nothing  against  such  odds,  and  the 
regiment  in  common  with  the  whole  division,  was 
hurled  back  after  having-  sustained  a  fearful  loss. 

Will  Newton,  as  he  was  endeavoring  to  find  the 
remnant  of  his  regiment,  saw  a  small  squad  of  his 
own  men  coming  back  bearing  one  of  their  com- 
rades on  a  blanket ;  his  heart  sank  as  he  saw  them. 
Sadlv  they  laid  their  burden  at  his  feet.  It  was  the 
form  of  Bill  Logan.  He  was  dead.  Will  was 
overwhelmed  with  grief,  and  his  comrades,  think- 


.,,  .-.-.r^v'TVi-Tsiw.riTr.^^^T^^rVif 


n 

> 

O 
w 


n 

> 

w 

2 


O 


> 


o 

WW 

C 

O 


The    To7ing    Vohinteer.  187 

Ing  to  assuage  his  sorrow  told  him  of  Logan's  prow- 
ess and  daring.  No  other  man,  they  said,  went  so 
near  the  Confederate  works  as  did  he,  and  when 
the  regiment  could  go  no  farther,  Logan  sprang  out 
in  front  of  the  line,  waving  his  hat  and  callino:  for 
the  men  to  come  on.  He  was  immediately  shot 
down,  and  as  his  men  rushed  forward  to  recover  his 
bodv,  he  onlv  articulated  the  words,   ''Dan,  I  am 


coming;-." 


''Brave,  good  man."  murmured  Will.  "I  do  not 
know  how  I  can  live  without  you.  Logan  and 
Eliottboth  gone  !  I  feel  that  I  am  left  alone."  New- 
ton had  the  body  of  his  friend  carried  across  the 
river,  and  detailed  two  of  his  men  to  gfuard  it  until 
the  battle  was  decided. 

On  the  foUowins:  morninof  he  obtained  leave  of 
absence,  as  he  was  unable  to  perform  active  service,  ^ 
and  conveyed  the  remains  to  Washington,  and«from  \^ 
thence  to  Boonsboro,  Maryland,  wliere  he  buried 
them  beside  those  of  Dan  Eliott.  iVfter  a  week's 
absence  he  returned  and  found  his  regiment  near 
Falmouth,  at  which  point  they  w^ent  into  winter 
quarters. 

General  Hooker  was  soon  placed  in  command  of 
the  armv,  and  a  thoroug^h    re-ors^anization    of  the 


iS8  Will  Nezvton, 

whole  Federal  army  was  made.  Those  officers  who 
were  disabled  or  inefficient,  were  asked  to  resign, 
and  worthy  men  promoted  to  fill  their  places.  The 
colonel  of  Will  Newton's  regiment  was  promoted 
to  a  Brigadier-general ;  the  captain  of  his  company 
was  promoted  to  be  Major  of  the  regiment,  while 
Will  Newton  was  made  Captain  of  the  company,  to 
the  great  satisfaction  of  all  his  men.  But  much 
work  and  responsibility  devolved  upon  him  in  this 
new  position  ;  and  he  straightway  undertook  the 
work  of  making  his  compan}-  the  best  in  the  regi- 
ment. 

There  were  many  ways  in  which  he  worked  to 
accomplish  this  result.       He    visited    all    the    tents 

^  AVithin  his  command,  talked  pleasantly  with  his  men, 
learned  much  about  their  families  left  at  home,  and 

\  >f  the  circumstances  surroundino"  them.  He  took 
special  pains  to  have  all  the  wants  of  the  men  sup- 
plied so  far  as  he  possibly  could  ;  the  sick  were 
given  special  attention,  and  manv  luxuries  were 
provided  for  their  use  by  the  thoughtfulness  and 
generosity  of  their  beloved  commander.  He  thus 
won  the  confidence  of  each  man.  They  all  came  to 
understand  that  the  captain  was  their  special  friend, 
and  who  would  do  all  in  his  powder  to    aid   them 


The    TotiJig    Volunteer.  189 

whenever  they  needed  assistance.  They  in  turn 
asked  themsehes  how  they  could  repay  him  for  the 
kindness  thus  shown  ;  and  when  he  informed  them 
that  it  was  by  good  behavior  and  discipHne  on  their 
part  that  he  was  to  be  repaid,  each  man  immediately 
lesolved  to  assist  in  making  the  company  the  model 
one  of  the  regiment. 

Not  many  weeks  went  by  before  they  were 
23ointed  out  on  drill  at  dress  parade,  in  camp  and 
on  review,  as  the  Banner  Company  of  the  brigade. 
Once  each  week.  Captain  Newton  arranged  to  have 
a  fine  dinner  for  the  wdiole  company  ;vegetables  and 
all  necessarv  materials  were  purchased  at  the  brigade 
commissarv  and  placed  in  the  skillful  hands  of  the 
company  cook,  who  would,  in  double-quick  time, 
produce  a  delicious  repast  for  the  men.  These 
were  special  seasons  in  the  history  of  the  company, 
and  at  such  times,  all  rank  was  laid  aside,  and  Will 
New^ton  came  forth  from  his  tent  with  dish  and 
spoon  to  take  dinner  with  the  boys  ;  and  by  his 
own  wit  and  boyish  entliusiasm  did  much  to  add  to 
the  joy  of  the  occasion.  Some  of  his  brother 
ofHcers  were  a  little  jealous  at  the  popularit}"  of  the 
young  captain  with  his  men.  One  of  them  sneer- 
inglv    remarked,    that    if  he    only    had  the  wealth 

13 


ic)0  Will  Newton^ 

possessed  by  Newton,  he  too,  could  provide  dinners 

for  his  men. 

^'Perhaps  so,"  said  Will.  ''Let  us  estimate  for  a 
moment  the  cost  of  some  of  our  purchases.  How 
much  do  you  expend  each  week  for  cigars,  my  dear 


sir.^" 


"Oh,  but  a  little,"  said  the  other.  "Not  over  fifty 
cents  a  day  perhaps." 

"How  much  for  liquors?"  queried  Newton. 

"Very  little  indeed,"  was  the  answer.  "Two 
dollars  a  week  will  cover  that." 

"Yes,  said  the  other,  "but  a  number  of  you  have 
organized  a  social  club,  and  three  evenings  each 
week  you  have  suppers.  Now,  how  often  does  your 
turn  come  to  provide  the  wine  supper?" 

"Once  a  month  only,"  replied  the  officer. 

"And  how  much  does  that  cost?"  asked  Will. 

"About  twelve  dollars." 

"Well,  sir;"  resumed  Newton;  "let  us  figure 
this  up  ;  your  tobacco  each  week  is  three  dollars 
and  a  half;  vour  liquors  cost  two  dollars  more,  and 
vour  wine  supper  averages  about  three  dollars  a 
w^eek,  making  a  total  aggregate  of  eight  dollars  and 
fifty  cents  each  week,  at  your  own  estimates,  which 
are  probably  below   their  actual  cost  to  you.     But 


> 


o 


O 

H 
O 


The   IToung    Volunteer.  191 

eight  dollars  and  fifty  cents  each  week  is  consider- 
ably more  than  the  amount  which  I  pay  for  the 
benefit  of  my  company." 

"That  may  be,"  somewhat  tartly  responded  the 
other;  "but  a  fellow  wants  a  little  fun  and  enjoyment 
out  here.  There  is  work  and  danger  and  hardships 
enough  and  I  want  some  enjoyment  to  even  the 
thing  up." 

"Very  true,  sir,"  replied  Newton.  "But  I  doubt 
after  all  if  you  derive  any  more  pleasure  from  your 
methods  than  I  do  from  mine.  It  is  just  grand  to 
have  all  your  men  love  you,  and  to  know  that  you 
are  helping  those  who  are  so  situated  that  they  can- 
not help  themselves  ;  at  any  rate  I  prefer  my  plan  to 
yours."  And  at  this  point  the  matter  was  dropped 
by  mutual  consent. 

A  weekly  prayer-meeting  was  sustained  in  the 
company,  and  Captain  Newton  very  often  went  to 
the  tents  of  his  men  and  joined  with  them  in  family 
prayers.  One  night,  at  the  close  of  a  very  hard 
day's  work,  he  chanced  to  be  in  comipany  with  the 
chaplain  of  the  regiment  and  several  other  officers, 
when  they  were  approached  by  a  soldier  in  a  faded 
uniform  who  was  anxiously  inquiring  for  the  chap- 
lain.    He  stated  that  his  brother  was  sick  and  dying  ; 


1.92  Wi'll   Newton^ 

he  wanted  some  one  to  pray  Avith  him  ;  there  was- 
no  one  in  his  own  regiment  on  whom  he  could  call 
for  that  service  and  he  had  come  for  relief. 

'•How  far  is  your  regiment  from  here?"  asked  the 
chaplain. 

"About  three  miles  I  think,  sir,"  said  the  soldier. 

"Well,  it  is  now  about  dark  and  beginning:  to  rain 
I  do  not  see  how  I  can  go,"  replied  the  chaplain; 
^'and  I  have  very  many  sick  men  in  my  own  regi- 
ment to  look  after.  The  Government  ought  to  have 
a  chaplain  in  each  regiment." 

"That  is  so, "rudely  laughed  an  officer  ;  "can  hard- 
ly expect  one  man  to  do  the  praying  for  the  whole 
army,  can  they.-"  And  a  loud  laugh  followed  this 
jest. 

The  soldier  with  a  sad  face  and  tearful  eyes 
turned  a^vay.  Captain  Newton  immediately  fol- 
lowed the  man  from  the  tent  and  accosted  him  with, 
"My  good  fellow,  3-ou  look  tired  and  sad." 

"Yes,  sir  :"  and  the  man  burst  into  tears.  Trying 
to  recover  his  composure  he  added,  "You  will  par- 
don me.  sir,  but  my  heart  is  nearly  broken  ;  poor 
Jim  has  been  sick  ever  since  the  battle  at  Fred- 
ericksburg :  he  is  much  younger  than  I  am,  so  he 
kind    'o  leans  on  me.     I  have    taken    care  of  him 


The    Youiig    l^olunteer.  193 

nights,  and  done  all  my  work  days,  so  that  I  am 
almost  worn  out.  To-night,  Jimmy  felt  that  he  was 
dying  and  wanted  some  one  to  pray  for  him.  He 
talked  so  much  about  it  that  I  said  he  should  have 
some  one.  I  am  not  worth  a  cent  to  pray  myself, 
and  there  was  no  one  in  our  regiment  that  would. 
I  heard  that  up  here  you  kept  a  man  who  w^as  paid 
by  the  Government  to  do  nothing  but  pray,  so  I 
tramped  up  here  ;  but  he  won't  go.  Poor  Jim  will 
feel  awful  bad  when  I  tell  him  that  there  is  no  one 
in  the  army  to  pray  for  him." 

"Wait  here  a  moment,"  said  New^ton  ;  and  he 
ran  to  the  quartermaster's  tent  where  he  borrowed 
a  heavy  coat  and  two  horses,  and  vaulting  into  the 
saddle,  and  leading  the  other  horse  to  the  waiting 
man,  ordered  him  to  mount  and  lead  the  way.  Out 
in  the  darkness  they  rode  making  all  possible  speed, 
the  high  mettled  horses  throwing  the  mud  all  over 
them  as  they  dashed  on. 

"Here  we  are,  sir,"  said  the  guide,  as  they 
halted  in  a  company  street  beside  a  small  tent.  A 
soldier  standing  near  took  the  horses,  and  the  two 
men  stooping  low,  entered  the  little  tent.  A  short 
piece  of  candle  very  dimly  lighted  the  tent.  Ever}'- 
tthing  had  been  done  that  was  possible  to  make  the 


194  Will  Newton^ 

tent  comfortable  for  the  invalid  who  laid  upon  the 
rough  couch.  He  was  but  a  boy,  fair  and  delicate, 
who  was  evidently  in  the  very  last  stages  of  a  quick 
consumption.  He  opened  his  blue  eyes  as  they 
entered,  and  gazed  wistfully  into  their  countenances. 

The  elder  brother  threw  himself  upon  his  knees 
beside  the  bed,  and  kissing  the  thin,  upturned  face, 
cried,  '^Dear  Jim,  he  has  come  to  pray  with  you.'* 

"What!  as  mother  used  to  pray?"  feebly  gasped 
the  young  sufferer. 

"Yes,  as  mother  used  to,"  kindly  replied  the 
other. 

Captain  Newton,  throwing  aside  his  wet  coat, 
knelt  down  and  took  the  sufferer's  hands  in  his  own 
and  asked,  "iVre  you  very  sick,  my  boy.^" 

"Yes,  sir;"  was  the  w^iispered  answ^er.  "I  am 
so  tired  that  I  shall  be  glad  when  the  end  comes." 

"And  you  wanted  some  one  to  pray  .^"  continued 
the  officer. 

"Yes,  sir  ;  read  and  pray.  I  didn't  want  to  die 
without  it." 

"Well,  my  boy,  I  have  come  to  help  you  in  that 
matter."  And  Will  began  to  repeat  from  memory 
many  passages  of  Scripture. 

"Oh,  they  are  so  nice,"  whispered  the  dying  boy  ; 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  195 

"and  now  I  want  vou  to  pray.  Mother  used  to- 
learn  me  a  prayer  that  began  with  something  hkc 
'Our  Father,  who'art  in  Heaven,' perhaps  you  have 
heard  it ;  and  in  it  somewhere  it  said,  'forgive  us 
our  sins.'  Be  sure  and  say  that  part  very  plainly, 
sir,  for  I  want  my  sins  forgiven." 

Will  Newton's  heart  was  touched  by  the  earnest 
simplicity  of  the  boy's  faith,  and  folding  him  in  his 
arms  with  his  head  resting  upon  his  shoulder  he 
poured  out  his  heart,  asking  God  to  smile  in  merc}^ 
upon  the  suffering  one. 

Before  the  prayer  closed  he  felt  the  head  sinking 
more  heavily  upon  his  shoulder.  The  boy  was  dead  ; 
but  a  sweet  smile  of  peace  and  resignation  rested 
upon  his  countenance.  Encouraging  words  of 
Christian  sympathy  were  spoken  to  the  living,  and 
after  giving  him  a  generous  sum  of  money.  Captain 
Newton  returned  to  his  regiment. 

Thus  the  winter  passed.  There  were  many  manly 
sports  introduced  by  the  men  in  which  the  captain 
joined  most  heartily.  In  playing  ball,  pitching 
quoits,  running  races  and  other  games,  he  excelled 
all  his  competitors  ;  and  without  forfeiting  his  dig- 
nity  in  the  least  degree  he  won  the  respect  and  con- 
fidence of  all. 


ic)6  Will   N'ezvtoji^ 

But  the  young  officer  did  not  find  his  experience 
in  the  army  devoid  of  all  anxiety  and  trouble,  for 
occasionally  things  occurred  which  were  very  pain- 
ful to  him.  During  the  winter  that  they  were  en- 
camped at  Falmouth,  the  general  in  command  of 
his  brigade,  one  day  extended  invitations  for  some 
fifty  officers  to  dine  with  him.  It  was  a  most  bril- 
liantoccasion.  Capt.Newtonandseveral other  officers 
from  his  regiment  were  included  in  the  number  in- 
vited. The  dinner  was  served  in  a  lar^e  tent  and 
the  long  table  was  well  loaded  with  the  bounteous 
banquet. 

They  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  hour  with  great 
zest.  Prominent  on  the  bill  of  fare  were  wines  and 
liquors  of  all  kinds  which  were  served  in  the  great- 
est abundance. 

Captain  Newton  noticed  with  regret  that  he  was 
the  only  guest  at  the  table  whose  glass  was  not  filled 
and  drained.  This  exception  to  the  general  rule 
was  unnoticed  by  the  party  until  the  glasses  had 
been  emptied  several  times.  Then,  "the  wine  was 
in  and  the  w^it  was  out,"  and  the  exhilarating  effects 
of  the  liquor  were  plainly  visible.  An  officer  who 
sat  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table  from  Newton, 


The    Toiing    Vohuiteer.  197 

cried  out,  '^Gentlemen,  we  must  look  after  Newton, 
for  he  has  not  drank  his  liquor." 

This  outburst  was  followed  by  a  chorus  of  cries 
like  the  following : — "He  lacks  true  pluck!"  "A 
sort  of  school  ^j^irl  I"  "Guess  he  desig'ns  to  be  a 
parson  !"  "A  man  who  won't  drink,  won't  fight !" 
"Give  him  some  milk  and  water  !"  "Send  him 
home  to  his  mother  !" 

Newton  felt  much  embarrassed  and  very  in- 
dio^nant  as  he  listened  to  these  derisive  cries  from 
his  brother  officers,  and  the  tempter  whispered  to  him 
that  for  this  time  he  had  better  compromise  the  matter 
by  drinking  a  glass  of  wine,  and  thus  have  all  the 
unpleasant  features  disposed  of.  But  it  was  only 
for  a  moment  that  he  entertained  the  thought,  and 
he  resolved  to  stand  by  his  convictions  for  right 
Avhatever  the  result  should  be. 

In  the  midst  of  this  drunken  uproar  he  arose  from 
his  seat  determined  to  retire  from  the  company.  At 
that  point,  however,  the  host,  who  occupied  a  seat 
at  the  head  of  the  table,  arose  and  supporting  him- 
self by  leaning  upon  the  table,  said  in  a  tone  of  au- 
thority, "Captain  Newton  will  resume  his  seat!" 

"Not  to  be  insulted,  sir,"  said  the  latter  firml}-, 
facing  his  superior  officer. 


198  Wi7l   Newton^ 

"Oh !"  responded  the  host,  "we  are  all  brave 
men  here.  We  are  gentlemen.  We  pledge  both 
bravery  and  honor  in  these  glasses,  and  it  is  both 
ungentlemanly  and  cowardly  to  refuse  to  drink. "^ 
At  this  remark  a  loud  shout  of  applause  ran  around 
the  circle. 

"Sir,  I  am  your  guest,"  replied  Newton  ;  "and 
as  such  I  wish  to  show  you  all  due  respect,  but  I 
shall  not  drink  any  liquors  at  your  table  ;  and  as  for 
bravery,  there  are  at  least  as  many  opportunities  to 
display  it  on  the  field  of  battle  as  in  a  drunken  de- 
bauch like  this.  You  speak  of  honor  ;  if  such  con- 
duct as  I  see  here  is  a  specimen,  I  have  no  desire  to 
be  an  honorable  man." 

The  company  were  almost  appalled  at  the  manly 
words  thus  spoken.  The  host  was  beside  himself 
with  passion.  He  brought  his  clenched  hand  down 
with  terrible  force  upon  the  table,  and  with  an  oath 
he  drew  a  revolver  from  his  belt  and  rushed  upon 
young  Newton,  exclaiming,  "No  man  shall  insult 
me  at  my  own  table  !" 

Captain  Newton  calmly  folded  his  arms  across 
his  breast  and  remained  perfectly  unmoved  by  the 
threatening  danger.  The  other  officers  here  inter- 
fered and  led  the  host  back  to    his    seat.       But  the 


The    Tou7ig    Volunteer.  199 

general  immediately  ordered  Captain  Newton  to  go 
to  his  quarters  and  remain  there  under  arrest  until  a 
court  martial  could  be  convened  to  dismiss  him  in 
disgrace  from  the  service.  There  was  of  course 
nothing  for  Newton  to  do  but  to  obey,  and  he  re- 
turned to  his  tent. 

He  had  been  there  but  a  short  time  however, 
before  his  old  friend,  the  former  colonel  of  his  regi- 
ment, now  a  brigadier  general,  rode  up  to  his  tent 
and  invited  him  to  take  a  ride  with  him. 

"I  am  under  arrest,"  replied  Newton. 

"For  what.?"  asked  his  friend  in  great  surprise. 

Captain  Newton  gave  him  all  the  particulars  of 
the  case. 

"The  villain  !"  muttered  the  listener.  "I  will  teach 
him  a  lesson."  ' 

"What  can  you  do?"  asked  Will. 

"I  shall  place  the  whole  matter  before  General 
Hooker  and  you  will  hear  from  this  with  a  ven- 
geance before  many  hours,"  said  the  general,  as  he 
bade  his  friend  good-bye  and  rode  away. 

He  went  directly  to  the  army  head-quarters  and 
told  the  whole  story  to  the  erratic,  impulsive,  brave 
commander.  General  Joe  Hooker.  "Old  Fighting 
Joe"  was  very  indignant.    He  drew  up  his  straight, 


200  Will  Nezvton^ 

soldierly  form  to  its  fullest  height  and  ejaculated  as 
he  walked  rapidly  back  and  forth  across  the  room, 
"I  will  teach  him  a  lesson  !  I  command  this  army  ! 
I  will  have  better  discipline  !  If  an  officer  drinks 
liquor,  I  cannot  hinder  it  so  long  as  it  does  not  in- 
jure him  as  a  soldier ;  but  when  he  insults  and 
threatens  to  shoot  and  disgrace  a  man  that  does  not 
drink,  it  is  outrageous  !  I  will  put  a  stop  to  it  I 
That  fellow^  shall  be  made  an  example  of  for  the 
whole  army,"  and  seizing  a  pen  the  old  general 
wrote  a  note  to  the  officer  against  whom  the  com- 
plaint had  been  made,  of  which  the  following  is  the 
substance  : 

"You  w^ill  immediately  release  Captain  Newton 
whom  you  have  placed  under  arrest.  Apologize  to 
him  and  then  send  your  resignation  to  these  head- 
quarters, and  thus  escape  a  court  martial." 

It  is  quite  needless  to  add  that  before  many  hours 
had  passed.  Captain  Newton  was  released  and  a  cer- 
tain brigade  commander  in  the  army  of  the  Poto- 
mac resigned  on  account  of  his  ill  health. 

But  Will  Newton  soon  discovered  that  many  of 
his  brother  officers  did  not  cherish  as  friendly  feel- 
ings for  him  as  he  could  have  wished  ;  although  his 
regret  on  that  account  was  amply  compensated  for 
by  the  love  and  respect  of  the  better  class  of  officers 


The    Toting    Volunteer.  201 

and  all  the  enlisted  men  in  the  regiment.  The 
boys  termed  him  the  "soldier's  friend, "and  that  title 
was  of  more  value  to  him  than  any  honor  that  could 
have  been  bestowed  upon  him. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

One  embarrassing  feature  in  Newton's  experience 
as  captain,  was  the  fact  that  within  his  company 
w^ere  several  boys  about  his  own  age.  They  were 
smart,  bright,  active  fellows,  as  full  of  life  and 
mischief  as  boys  can  possibly  be  ;  and  while  there 
was  nothing  willful  about  them,  they  were  always 
playing  practical  jokes  upon  each  other,  and  forag- 
ing upon  both  the  Government  and  the  surrounding 
citizens.  Of  course  New^ton  knew  enough  of  human 
nature  to  understand  that  such  things  must  be  ex- 
pected on  the  part  of  the  men  ;  but  at  times  by  their 
thoughtlessness  they  placed  him  in  most  aw'kward 
positions.  Four  of  these  young  rogues  occupied 
one  tent,  and  so  notorious  had  become  the  exploits 
of  its  occupants,  that  the  tent  was  known  as  the 
"forager's  retreat;"  and  if  the  walls  of  that  little 
tent  could  have  spoken,  they  would  have  told  of 
many  bountiful  meals  eaten  therein  at  the  expense  of 
the  Government,   or  of  Virginia  planters.     But  so 


'Ilie    7'oung    Volu7iteer.  203. 

adroitly    were  all  these   matters  managed   that  the 
guilty  could  never  be  detected. 

One  morning  during  the  winter,  near  Falmouth, 
there  was  a  loud  knock  at  Captain  Newton's  door, 
and  when  opened  to  ascertain  what  w^as  w^anted, 
there  stood  before  him  a  tall,  lank  citizen,  clad  in  an 
all  butternut  suit  of  clothes,  with  slouched  hat,  long 
hair  and  beard.  His  errand  w^as  soon  madeknow^n. 
On  the  previous  night  his  only  porker,  a  fine  fat  pig 
that  he  had  been  feeding  with  great  care  and  which 
he  intended  to  slaughter  in  a  few  days  for  his  own 
use,  had  been  stolen.  The  thieves  had  killed  ^he 
pig  on  the  premises  and  carried  the  meat  away  ; 
leaving  a  card  fastened  to  the  door  of  his  house, 
upon  which  was  printed  in  rude  letters,  "Charge 
the  price  of  the  pig  to  Uncle  Sam."  The  outraged 
man  was  of  course  very  angr}-  at  this  piece  of 
impudence,  and  through  the  mud  and  a  heavy  frost 
upon  the  ground,  he  had  tracked  the  thieves  to 
Captain  Newton's  company,  and  demanded  that 
officer  to  assist  him  in  his  endeavor  to  recover  his 
lost  property.  Newton  of  course  informed  him  that 
he  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  aid  him,  for  he  felt 
indignant  at  the  meanness  of  those  w^ho  would  steal 
the  only  pig  a  man  possessed. 


204  lVi7l  Newton^ 

The  company  were  immediately  ordered  to  "fall 
in."  When  the  line  was  formed,  a  detail  of  four 
men  was  ordered  to  search  every  tent  in  the  com- 
pany. Captain  Newton  expected  of  course  that 
when  the  "forager's  retreat"  was  searched  some 
proof  of  the  theft  would  be  discovered,  but  no  signs 
of  the  lost  piggy  were  there.  When  the  search  had 
been  completed,  the  report  was  that  no  indications 
of  the  stolen  property  had  been  discovered.  The 
old  Virginian  departed,  vowing  vengeance  upon  the 
whole  Union  army. 

Nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  affair  until  on  the 
following  day  at  noon,  when  one  of  the  rascals  who 
occupied  the  ''foragers'  retreat,"  stood  coolly  at  the 
Captain's  door  with  a  fine  roast  of  pork  done  to  a 
turn.  It  w^as  handed  to  the  captain,  and  without 
speaking  the  donor  walked  away. 

After  dinner,  Will  Newton  walked  down  to  the 
"forager's  retreat,"  and  said,  "Look  here  boys,  you 
managed  that  well ;  for  I  did  mv  best  to  ascertain 
if  that  pig  was  in  the  company,  and  failed  ;  and  I 
want  you  to  tell  me  where  you  had  it  concealed  V 

One  of  the  four  owners  of  the  tent,  and  the  one 
who  on  great  occasions  usually  acted  as  spokesman 

for  them  all,  replied,     "Captain,  wx  have  the  great- 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  205 

est  respect  for  you,  and  if  you  insist  upon  knowing, 
why  of  course  we  must  tell  you  ;   but  I   hope  you 
will  not   make  such  a   demand,  for  we   are  men  of 
honor    and  to   give  you   the   required     information 
will  place  us  in  a  very  awkward  position." 

"Whv  so?"  asked  Newton. 

"Because  the  pork  was  concealed  in  the  tent  of  a 
friend,  and  we  do  not  want  to  implicate  him." 

"Was  the  pork  in  the  regiment  when  the  search 
was  made?"  demanded  the  captain. 

"Oh  yes,  indeed."  came  the  reply. 

"Then  why  was  it  not  found?"  asked  the  cap- 
tain. "For  every  company  was  searched  at  the  same 
time." 

"Because  they  did  not  happen  to  search  the 
officers'  tents,"  replied  the  other. 

"You  do  not  pretend  to  tell  me  that  the  stolen 
pork  was  concealed  within  the  tent  of  any  officer  in 
this  regiment,  do  you?"  demanded  the  surprised 
Newton. 

"Exactly,"  said  the  other  very  solemnly.  "One 
of  the  best  officers  in  the  whole  regiment.  One  who 
is  a  brave  Christian  man." 

"What  do  you  mean ?  Who  is  it?  I  demand  that 
you  inform  me,"  ejaculated  the  astonished  captain. 

14t 


2o6  Will  JVczv ton ^ 

"Well,  if  I  must,  I  must,''  said  the  other.  ''You 
see  we  got  in  with  the  pig  just  before  the  morning 
roll-call ;  w^e  knew  there  would  be  a  fuss  and  search 
after  it,  and  that  we  must  put  it  in  a  secure  place. 
We  concluded  that  the  safest  place  would  be  where 
they  would  least  expect  it  to  be  found.  So  when 
the  old  chaplain  went  out  at  the  roll-call  we  got  in- 
to his  tent  and  covered  the  pig  up  with  his  blankets. 
Bibles,  tracts  and  other  things,  so  that  no  one  would 
have  mistrusted  that  it  was  there." 

The  captain  was  half  angry,  but  laughed  until  the 
tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks.  "You  rascals  !"  he 
exclaimed.  "And  so  you  concealed  your  stolen  pig 
in  the  chaplain's  tent.  Supposing  it  had  been  dis- 
covered there,  what  would  the  chaplain  have  said.?" 

"Well,"  replied  the  other,  "he  is  a  smooth 
spoken  old  fellow,  and  would  have  gotten  out  of  it 
in  some  way." 

"But  how  did  you  get  your  pork  out  of  his  tent 
without  being  discov^ered.'"  questioned  Newton. 

"Oh,  nothing  easier,"  said  the  other.  "Tom  here 
had  a  very  severe  headache.  We  feared  he  would 
have  an  attack  of  typhoid  fever,  and  if  he  did,  per- 
haps he  would  die.  So  I  went  up  and  told  the 
chaplain  about  it    and  asked  him  to  come  down  and 


The    IToung    Volujzteer.  207 

make  some  consoling  talk  to  him,  and  while  he  was 
preparing  Tom  to  die,  Dick  and  I  went  up  to  the 
chaplain's  tent  with  a  hard-bread  box  ;  we  put  the 
little  pig  into  it  and  spread  some  religious  papeis 
and  tracts  over  him.  As  we  were  leaving  the  tent, 
the  sergeant-major  yelled  out,  'What  are  you  doing 
there?'  We  answered,  'going  to  do  some  religious 
work  for  the  chaplain.'  By  the  time  we  got  back 
here,  Tom  was  prepared  for  eternity.  So  we  hid 
the  pork  until  to-day  and  then  cooked  it.  We  hope 
you  liked  your  piece,  captain.^  We  had  an  awful 
sight  of  trouble  and  work  to  get  it,  but  good  people 
must  always  expect  tribulation  and  trouble  in  this 
world  I  suppose,"—  and  the  young  rascal  turned  his 
eyes  upward  in  the  most  approved  fashion. 

Captain  Newton  made  a  great  effort  to  look  severe 
and  then  gave  the  boys  some  good  advice  in  a  kind 
way,  persuading  them  not  to  forage  any  more,  bid- 
ding them  good  day  and  -hoping  that  they  would 
follow  his  counsel.   . 

It  was  but  a  few  days  after  this  however,  when 
one  of  these  four  worthies  was  seen  riding  into  camp 
on  a  fine  black  horse.  Newton  immediately  hailed 
him  and  asked,  "W^here  did  you  get  that  horse  .^" 

"Bought  him,  sir  ;"  was  the  answer. 


.2o8  Wi'll  Neivton^ 

"Where?" 

"Down  near  Warrenton,  sir." 

"What  did  you  buy  him  for?" 

"To  speculate  on  ;  what  will  you  give  me  for 
him  ?" 

The  captain  shook  his  head  and  passed  on.  He 
evidently  had  some  fears  as  to  the  rightful  ownership 
of  the  horse.  The  soldier  soon  traded  with  the 
quartermaster,  and  sold  him  the  black  steed  for  the 
snug  sum  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars^ 
The  soldier  of  course  to  guarantee  that  he  had  a 
perfect  right  to  sell  the  animal. 

On  the  following  day  there  was  a  commotion  in 
camp.  A  gentleman  residing  a  few  miles  away  had 
arrived, claiming  the  horse  as  his  property  ;  it  having,- 
he  stated,  been  stolen  from  his  stable.  The  quarter- 
master sent  for  Captain  Xewton,  who  immediately 
summoned  the  vender  of  horses  from  his  company^ 
The  citizen  claimed  that  the  horse  was  his,  while 
the  soldier  insisted  that  he  had  bought  him  over 
thirty  miles  away  and  paid  seventy-five  dollars  for 
him.  The  citizen  stoutly  argued  that  the  horse  was. 
his  and  deplored  its  loss,  as  it  was  so  kind  an  animal 
that  his  daughter  could  ride  him.. 


The    yoimg    Volunteer.  209 

"Is  there  anything  pecuHar  about  the  feet  of  your 
liorse  ?"  asked  the  young  soldier. 

*'No,  sir;"  said  the  citizen. 

"About  his  shoes?"  said  the  soldier. 

"No,  sir  ;"  said  the  other. 

"Kind  to  ride  on  horseback?" 

"Yes,  sir;  perfectly." 

The  lad  persisted  that  his  horse  had  been  pur- 
chased and  paid  for,  and  that  it  did  not  answer  the 
description  given  by  the  man  of  his  property.  The 
horse  was  led  out  once  more  for  the  inspection  of 
the  company.  His  feet  were  examined,  and  to  the 
surprise  of  all  he  wore  those  round  shoes,  worn  by 
horses  w^hose  feet  are  flat.  The  citizen  was  very 
much  chagrined. 

"This  horse  is  a  perfect  tiger  when  you  mount 
him,"  said  the  young  soldier.  "I  will  put  a  saddle 
on  him,  and  you  see."  He  took  him  back  to  the 
stable,  and  soon  led  him  forth  with  saddle  and 
bridle.  "Here  he  is,  if  any  one  wants  to  try  him  ; 
he  is  an  ugly  brute." 

"He  is  my  horse  and  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,"  said 
the  irritated  citizen.     "I  will  mount  him  myself." 

"Be  careful  sir,"  said  the  young  man,  as  he 
handed  him  the  reins. 


2IO  Will  Nexvton^ 

With  a  withering  look  of  contempt  the  gentleman 
sprang  into  the  saddle,  but  in  a  moment  the  horse 
bounded  into  the  air  with  a  vicious  scream  of  rag-e 
or  pain,  while  his  heels  went  high  into  the  air,  and 
the  rider  went  heels  w^  over  the  horse's  head. 

"Oh,  just  as  I  expected,"  sorrowfull}'  exclaimed 
the  hopeful  youth.  '•'•He  is  an  awful  vicious  animal." 
The  citizen  was  assisted  to  his  feet,  the  horse  w^as 
captured  and  led  back  to  the  scene  of  the  disaster  ; 
he  was  tossing  his  head  defiantly  as  if  anxious  to  try 
it  over  again. 

"I  can't  understand  it."  said  the  gentleman,  as  he 
limped  away  ^vith  many  bruises.  "He  looks  so 
inuch  like  my  horse  that  I  could  take  my  oath  to 
his  identity  ;  but  he  is  so  vicious  !  My  horse  was 
perfectly  kind.     I  must  have  been  mistaken." 

Several  wxeks  elapsed  before  Captain  Newton 
could  obtain  any  clue  to  the  mystery  narrated  above. 
The  four  occupants  of  the  "forager's  retreat"  looked 
a  little  ashamed  and  crest-fallen  when  he  met  them, 
but  he  wisely  decided  to  ask  them  no  questions  about 
the  horse  trade.  He  was  passing  their  tent  one  day 
and  they  invited  him  to  enter.  The  leader  of  the 
gang  began,  "Captain,  you  have  always  been  kind 
to  us,  and  we  feel   condemned  for  having  deceived 


The    Young    Volunteer.  211 

you  about  that  horse  affair,  and  we  want  to  tell  you 
all  about  it." 

"I  shall  be  pleased  to  have  you  do  so,"  replied  the 
captain. 

*'We  told  the  tiling  at  the  time  about  as  it  was,' 
said  the  other  ;   "but  there   were    a    few  incidental 
matters  which  we  did  not  put  in.     That  old  gentle- 
man who  came  here  after  the    horse  has    a  colored 
man  working  for  him.       Tom  and  I  made  this  col- 
ored fellow's  acquaintance,  and  he  told  us  that  when 
the  rebels  were  here,  the  old  man  was  a  strong  rebel, 
and  wdien  we  came,  he  was  a  loyal  man  ;  so  we  got 
a  kind  of  prejudice  against  him.   We  arranged  with 
that  black  fellow   to   ride  the   old   man's  horse    off 
some  six  miles  from  home  and  then  sell  him  to  us. 
He  did  so.       We   paid   him  seventy-five  dollars  for 
the  animal  and  he  gave  l^ack  sixty  of  it  to  us.       On 
our  way  home  with  our  horse   we  happened  to  think 
that  possibly  he  would  be  tracked,  and  got  the  bril- 
liant idea  of  changing  his  shoes.     A  battery  black- 
smith was  found  wdio  did  the  job  for  us.   We  brought 
him  home  and  you  know  the  rest." 

"But,"  said  the  captain  ;  "if  he  was  a  kind,  peace- 
able horse,  I   don't  understand  why  he  should  kick 


213  Will  NezL'tofi^ 

and  plunge  so  when  his  owner  mounted  hhn  that 
day." 

*'Oh,"  said  the  other,  "there  was  a  little  strategy 
about  that  which  you  don't  understand.  When  I 
went  to  saddle  the  horse  for  the  old  gentleman  I 
chanced  to  have  a  small  piece  of  leather  in  my 
pocket  \vith  several  sharp  pointed  tacks  in  it ;  it  had 
been  used  as  a  hinge  upon  a  small  wooden  box.  I 
chanced  to  think  that  it  would  be  well  to  use  that, 
and  so  I  placed  it  under  the  saddle  in  such  a  way 
that  the  least  pressure  upon  it  would  cause  the  points 
to  prick  the  horse's  back.  I  cautioned  the  old  gen- 
tleman, but  he  was  so  headstrong  that  it  was  of  no 
use,  and  you  know^  the  result." 

"Oh,  boys,"  said  Will,  gravely,  "that  w^as  too 
bad  !  I  guess  you  went  too  far,  and  you  had  better 
return  the  mone}-  to  the  quartermaster  and  take  the 
horse  to  his  owner." 

"Well,  captain,  that  seems  a  little  hard,  but  we 
are  willing  to  do  as  you  say  ;  but  we  don't  want  to 
give  ourselves  away  if  we  take  the  horse  back. 
Won't  the  old  fellow  go  for  us  and  make  another 
fuss.?" 

"You  return  the  horse  and  1  will  look  after  that 


The    Tou72g    V^ohaiteer.  213 

matter,"   replied    the  captain  ;   "but  bays  you  must 
promise  never  to  do  any  thing  like  this  again." 

The  money  was  refunded  to  the  quartermaster 
and  the   horse  was  returned  to   its   rightful  owner. 

A  few  wxeks  after  this  the  sutler's  tent  was  one 
night  raided  upon,  and  among  other  articles  of  value 
which  were  stolen,  were  several  boxes  of  tobacco. 
Of  course  there  was  an  uproar  in  the  morning.  The 
tents  were  all  searched  by  a  detail  of  soldiers,  includ- 
ing the  "forager's  retreat,"  but  no  tobacco  w-as 
found.  The  sutler  was  very  indignant  and  out- 
spoken in  his  wrath  and  condemnation  ;  but  as  he 
was  something  of  a  sharper  himself,  there  was 
not  much  sympathy  for  him  among  either  officers 
or  men. 

Several  days  later  Captain  Newton  was  passing 
the  "retreat"  and  noticed  several  large  pieces  of  to- 
bacco lying  upon  the  table.  He  at  once  asked  the 
boys  where  the  tobacco  was  secreted  during  the 
search  that  had  been  made  for  it.  It  was  some  little 
time  before  he  could  obtain  a  clue  to  the  mystery ; 
but  it  was  soon  revealed  to  him  that  they  had  sus- 
pended the  boxes  in  their  small  chimney  until  after 
the  search  had  been  made. 


214  ^^^^^^  Newton^ 

"But  why  did  you  take  the  tobacco?"  said  New- 
ton ;  "neither  of  you  use  it.  Why  take  those  things 
which  were  of  no  use  to  you  ?" 

"Oh,  you  see,"  replied  they,  "lots  of  the  boys  have 
no  money  to  buy  tobacco  and  the  old  sutler  will  not 
trust  them  ;  so  we  fellows  have  been  doing  a  sort  of 
missionary  work,  and  have  given  it  away.  Why, 
we  have  tobacco'd  almost  every  man  in  the  regi- 
ment and  have  several  plugs  left." 

The  captain  could  not  find  it  in  his  heart  to  scold 
much,  especially  as  he  remembered  how  often  he 
had  labored  with  them  and  the  little  effect  it  had 
had  upon  them.  But  he  urged  them  to  remember 
one  thing,  that  they  were  not  supposed  or  expected 
to  do  much  more  missionary  work  of  that  kind. 

A  bee-hive  was  stolen  from  a  farm  house  and 
was  traced  to  the  regiment.  The  colonel  deter- 
mined to  make  an  example  of  the  guilty  parties  so 
that  an  end  might  be  put  to  these  depredations.  He 
ordered  every  man  in  the  regiment  to  fall  into  line, 
then  a  guard  searched  all  the  tents.  They  looked 
everywhere  but  no  hive,  bees  or  honey  could  be 
found.  Captain  Newton's  tent  was  a  large  square 
wall  tent ;  the  bed  which  was  in  one  corner  being 
two  or  three  feet  from  the  floor.  A  day  or  two  after 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  215 

the    fruitless    search   had    been  made,  Newton  was 
busily  engaged  in  writing   at  his  table,  when  to  his 
surprise  he    saw    several  bees  flying   around    him. 
For  a    time   he    thought  nothing  of  it,  but  as  their 
number  perceptibly  increased  and   he  recalled  the 
event  that  had  occurred   a  few  daj^s  before,  he  de- 
determined  to  investigate  the  matter.     He  looked  in 
every  place  where  he  thought  any  thing  of  the  kind 
could  possibly  be  concealed,  and  at  last,  under  his 
bed.     His  search  was  rewarded  by  hearing   a  loud, 
buzzing  sound,  and  seeing  a  large,  suspicious  look- 
insr  box.       In   a  moment  he    understood  the  whole 
matter.      His  first  impulse  was  one  of  indignation, 
but  the  whole  aflair  was  so  ludicrous  that  he  laughed 
in  spite  of  himself.       A  happy  thought  occurred  to 
him,  and  he  immediately  sent  word  to  the  leader  of 
the  band  which  resided  in    the    "forager's    retreat" 
that  the  captain  desired  to  see  him  at  his  tent.     In 
a  few  moments  that  worthy  reported  at  the  specified 
place. 

"Ah,  Joe,"    said  the  captain,  "I  am  very  glad  to 
see  you.     I  have  a  small  favor  to  ask  of  you." 

"Will  gladly  do  anything  in  my   power,  sir,    to 
assist  you,"  said  the  other. 


2i6  Will  Newton^ 

"Thank  you,  Joe  ;  it  is  only  a  small  job.  There 
is  a  large  box  under  my  bunk  there  that  I  want  re- 
moved. Will  you  please  go  under  here  and  bring 
it  out.^' 

For  a  moment  Joe  hesitated  ;  it  was  an  awkward 
position  for  him.  He  finally  replied,  "With  pleas- 
ure, sir." 

Like  a  martyr,  upon  his  hands  and  knees,  Joe 
went  about  his  allotted  task.  The  captain  almost 
exploding  with  laughter,  retreated  from  the  tent, 
closed  the  door  after  him  and  watched  the  proceed- 
ings through  a  small  window. 

Joe  had  seized  the  hive  with  nervous  desperation 
and  began  to  drag  it  forth  from  its  place  of  conceal- 
ment ;  but  the  bees  already  angry  at  the  outrage  in- 
flicted upon  them,  lit  upon  him  by  dozens  and  scores. 
Our  hero  fought  them  silently  for  a  moment  or  two, 
but  it  was  very  dark  and  Joe  was  upon  his  hands 
and  knees  so  that  his  little  tormentors  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  him.  They  crawled  up  his  trowsers 
legs  and  into  his  stockings ;  they  were  upon  his 
hands  and  arms,  in  his  hair,  eyes,  ears,  and  circu- 
lating very  lively  along  his  face  and  down  his  neck. 

"Whew  !  gosh  !  sixty  !  blazes  !  thunder  !  Jupiter  ! 
Heavens  and  earth  !  !"   howled  Joe,  as  he  emerged 


> 


r 


The   Toung    Volunteer.  217 

from  beneath  the  bed.  Covered  with  his  terrible  Httle 
foes  he  jumped  and  danced  around  the  tent  for  a  time, 
but  as  matters  gradually  became  worse,  he  opened 
the  tent  door  and  dashed  like  a  buck  to  his  tent, 
where  he  hoped  to  get  rid  of  his  foes. 

The  occupants  of  the  "forager's  retreat"  were  soon 
summoned  to  appear  before  the  captain  where  they 
confessed  the  whole  transaction.  Having  stolen  the 
hive  they  had  concealed  it  under  the  captain's  bed 
by  raising  up  the  tent  wall.  They  did  not  suppose 
that  the  bees  would  leave  the  hive  and  they  were 
designing  to  remove  it  the  very  night  after  it  was 
discovered. 

The  captain  sent  them  to  the  owner  and  gave  him 
his  choice  to  return  the  hive  or  have  the  money  paid 
him  for  it.  He  preferred  the  latter.  A  good  round 
sum  was  paid  him. 

The  foragers  removed  the  hive  and  bees  from  the 
cabtain's  tent;  the  latter  was  generously  remem- 
bered when  the  honey  was  taken  from  the  hive- 
Poor  Joe  walked  like  an  old  man  for  several  weeks. 

Quite  a  number  of  recruits  were  sent  to  Captain 
Newton's  company  during  the  winter  that  they  were 
encamped  near  Falmouth,  and  it  required  constant 
vigilance  on  the   part  of    Newton  to   prevent  the 


21 8  lVi7l  Newton^ 

young  rascals  from  playing  practical  jokes,  and  o* 
a  serious  nature  upon  them.  Such  things  were 
indulged  in  by  the  old  soldiers  everywhere  ;  but  Will 
Newton  had  not  forgotten  his  ow^n  experience  when 
he  first  entered  the  service,  and  did  all  in  his  power 
to  protect  the  recruits.  He  was  one  night  passing 
a  tent  occupied  by  several  men  who  had  but  recently 
joined  the  company,  and  as  he  passed  he  saw  that 
the  occupants  were  all  out ;  a  moment  later  he  saw 
one  of  the  bo3^s  enter  the  tent.  The  captain  watched 
him  closeh"  and  saw^  him  carefully  deposit  quite  a 
large  package  of  cartridges  in  the  ashes  under  the 
fire.  The  design  was  tor  the  powder  to  explode 
about  the  time  the  owners  of  the  tent  should  return. 

As  the  one  who  had  concealed  the  package  was 
about  to  leave  the  tent,  Newton  stepped  up  and 
asked  him  to  remain  within  in  the  tent  until  the 
owners  should  return  and  tell  them  that  the  captain 
vs^ould  like  to  see  them. 

"I  will  stand  outside  and  tell  them,  sir,"  replied 
the  other. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Newton,  "that  will  not  do  ;  it  is 
quite  cold  out  here  ;  sit  down  on  that  stool  beside 
the  fire  and  enjoy  yourself  until  they  return." 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  219 

The  fellow  of  course  had  to  obey  or  confess  as 
to  what  he  had  just  done,  and  that  would  not  do. 
So  with  a  doleful  countenance  he  took  the  designated 
seat,  but  looked  as  if  he  expected  some  great  calam- 
ity to  overtake  him.  The  captain  from  a  little  dis- 
tance watched  the  result.  He  waited  but  a  moment 
or  two  ;  there  was  a  loud  explosion.  The  tent  was 
filled  with  smoke,  and  the  patient  watcher  covered 
with  ashes,  dirt  and  fire,  came  out  of  the  door- way 
head  over  heels,  exclaiming,  "Those  recruits  don't 
know  an}'  better  than  to  pack  their  cartridges  in  the 
ashes  !" 

Among  the  recruits,  was  a  big,  corpulent  German, 
and  the  boys  at  once  decided  that  he  was  a  fit  subject 
for  sport.  He  was  fat  and  good  natured  ;  slow  to 
learn,  and  so  dull  in  comprehension  that  he  could 
never  see  the  point  of  a  joke  until  several  days  after 
it  had  taken  place.  On  the  day  after  he  joined  the 
company  he  came  to  the  "forager's  retreat"  and 
inquired  as  follows,  "Vat  dosch  you  fellies  mean 
mit  de  picket  poscht  dosch  one  fellie  have  to  standeth 
upon  it." 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Joe,  "we  can  soon  teach  you 
how,  you  come  with  us."  And  Dutchey  followed 
his  instructors.     A  sharpened  post  was  driven  into 


220  Will  Newtofz, 

the  ground,  the  upper  end  was  sharpened  to  a  ponit. 

"There  sir,  it  is  ready  now ;  try  and  get  upon  it." 

They  all  assisted,  but  it  was  of  little  use  for  the 
big  fellow  immediately  tumbled  to  the  ground. 

The  spectators  laughed  heartily,  and  the  poor 
fellow  remarked,  "I  can  never  learn  how  !" 

"You  must  not  get  discouraged  too  quick,  my 
good  fellow,"  said  the  captain,  who  at  this  moment 
most  unexpectedly  appeared  upon  the  scene.  -'Do 
not  get  discouraged  ;  some  of  these  old  fellows  will 
show  you  how.  Come  Joe,  said  the  captain,  mount 
the  picket  post  and  give  him  the  benefit  of  your 
example." 

Joe  demurred,  but  he  looked  at  the  captain's  stern 
face  a  moment  and  decided  that  it  was  best  for  him 
to  make  the  attempt.  With,  a  sorry  looking  face, 
and  assisted  by  his  comrades  he  managed  to  stand 
upon  the  peaked  point  of  the  post  about  four  feet 
above  the  ground  ;  but  it  required  his  utmost  skill  to 
maintain  his  balance.  Over  a  hundred  men  had  by 
this  time  been  attracted  to  the  spot. 

"Stand  there  five  minutes,"  said  the  captain, 
looking  at  his  watch,  "and  then  I  will  excuse  you  ; 
unless  you  do  you  must  try  it  over  again." 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  221 

With  many  flourishes  of  his  arms  and  movements 
of  his  head  and  body,  which  called  forth  great 
merrirqent  from  the  spectators,  he  managed  to  main- 
tain his  perch  for   the   given  time  of  five  minutes. 


15 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

In  one  of  the  many  letters  written  that  winter  to 
his  old  friends,  the  Lambs,  at  Maplewood,  Will 
Newton  gave  this  amusing  description  of  some  inci- 
dents in  his  army  experience  : 

"To  sleep  by  a  small  camp-fire  out  on  the  picket 
line  during  a  very  cold  night  is  an  event  more 
memorable  than  interesting ;  and  to  make  it  enjoy- 
able is  one  of  the  most  difficult  feats  in  the  soldier's 
life. 

Imagine  the  situation  for  yourself. — A  cold  windy 
day  in  winter,  where  even  in  this  region  the  ground 
is  frozen  quite  hard  with  frost ;  a  few  leafless  trees 
flinging  their  bare  arms  sorrowfully  against  the  rough 
screaming  wind.  The  picket  reserve  is  about  one- 
fourth  of  a  mile  in  rear  of  the  picket  line.  It  is 
composed  of  perhaps  fifty  men,  who  are  gathered 
closely  around  a  small  fire.  Your  corresponden 
has  the  honor  of  being  the  officer  in  command. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  223 

The   day  closes  and  the  night  comes    on  colder 
and   more  windy  than  the  day.     The  air  is  cold  and 
chilly  ;  the  wind  penetrating  through  our  clothing 
quite    easily.       We    soon    make   our   arrangements 
to  pass    the    night   as    comfortably    as  the   circum- 
stances will  permit.     One  of  our  blankets  is  spread 
out  upon  the  damp,  cold,  frosty  ground,  and  we  lie 
down  upon  that  beside   the   fire,   and  draw  another 
blanket  over  us,  and  try  to  sleep.     But  we  find  many 
embarrassing  features  existing,  which  the  uninitiated 
would  not  expect.      I  was  just  beginning  to   sleep 
when  I   became    somewhat  suddenly  aware    of  the 
fact  that  my  side  which  was  nearest  to  the  fire  was 
becoming   too    hot,    while    the    opposite    side    was 
nearly  frozen  ;  which  of  course  necessitated  a  change 
of  position  ;  but  not  many  moments  had  passed  after 
such  a  change   had   been   made  before  the  fact  was 
apparent  that  the  upper  portion  of  my   body  in  its 
recumbent  position  was  covered  with  sparks  of  fire, 
while  the  lower  was  keenly  feeling  the  snapping  of 
Jack  Frost's  teeth.     Again  I  changed  locations  ;  then 
my  feet  were  too    hot  and  my   head  was  too  cold. 
Thus  we  passed  the  night ;  roasting,  freezing,  turn- 
ing and  scolding  around  our  picket  fire.     But  in  the 
midst  of  all  these  discomforts  there  was  much  good. 


224  Win   Newt 071^ 

nature  and  wit  displayed,  showing  that  the  boys  are 
determined  to  make  the  best  of  every  thing. 

I  had  just  fallen  asleep  last  night,  about  midnight, 
Avhen  I  was  aroused  by  one  of  the  boys  who 
growled  as  he  was  turning  his  cold  side  towards  the 
fire,  •!  wish  we  had  a  military  fire.'  'What  earthly 
benefit  would  that  be?'  asked  an  unsuspecting  com- 
rade wiio  was  half  asleep.  "Oh  then,'  chuckled 
the  other,  -we  would  form  it  in  a  hollow  square 
and  sleep  in  the  center.'  -Bright  boy,'  grunted  the 
other,  and  a  loud  lauoh  ran  around  the  circle  of 
recumbent   soldiers. 

To-day  I  walked  down  the  picket  line  for  a  inile 
or  more,  and  when  I  returned  I  was  surprised  to 
see  that  two  large  posts  had  been  driven  down  near 
the  fire  at  a  distance  from  each  other  of  about 
twelve  feet.  A  large  beam  had  been  securely 
fastened  on  the  upper  ench  of  the  posts,  about  ten 
feet  high.  Of  course  I  was  interested,  and  asked 
what  it  was  for.  'Now  Captain.'  said  one  of  the 
most  mischievious  boys  in  the  whole  squad,  "I  want 
vou  to  o^uess  what  it  is  for  :  and  if  vou  can  gfLiess 
right  within  five  minutes  I  will  promise  never  to 
forage  any  more  while  I  am  a  member  of  your  com- 
pany.'    A  great  inducement  had  thus  been   offered 


The    Young    Volunteer.  225 

me,  for  the  speaker   was  an  inveterate  forager    and 
had  caused  me  more  trouble  in  that  respect  than  any 
other  man  in  the  company.      So  to  please  the  boys 
I  began  to  guess.     I  named  every  conceivable  thing  ; 
but  the  answer  was  always,  mo.'   'Four  minutas  have 
passed,  captain,'  exclaimed   the  young  rascal,  who 
held  the  key  to  the  problem  which  I  was  endeavor- 
ing to  solve.     Then   I    guessed    more    rapidly ;  but 
when  the  time  w^as    up  I   had  failed  to  succeed.     I 
then  of  course  demanded  that  he  should  tell  me  the 
object  for  which  the  posts  and  beam  had  been  placed 
there.     With  the    dignity    of  a   judge,  the   boy  sat 
upon    a  log   and  began, — 'Captain,  that  is  a  great 
thincr ;  it  is  a    wonderful    invention.      The   Govern- 
ment  will  be  wdlling  to  pay  me  a  large  sum  of  money 
for  it,  for  I  believe  it  will  come  into  general  use  all 
through  the  army.'     And   thus   he   ran  on  until    I 
interrupted  again    and  demanded  to  know  what  the 
invention  was  for.      ^Well,    captain,'  he  replied,  'I 
was  about  to  tell  you.     I  shall  have  a   dozen  ropes 
suspended  from  the  pole,  and  instead  of  lying  upon 
the  ground  to  freeze  to-night,  as  you  did  last  night, 
I  intend  that   each  of  you    shall  hang   up  before  the 
fire.     I  will  keep  awake  to  turn  you  round    so  that 
you  can  keep  warm  all  the  time.     My  mother  used 


236  Wi7l   Newton^ 

to  roast  her  geese  in  that  way,  but  I  will  promise 
not  to  roast  any  of  you  fellows.'  Then  there  was  a 
loud  laugh  ;  and  I  will  confess  that  I  did  feel  some- 
thing like  a  goose. 

Soon  after  the  above  episode,  one  of  the  boys  with 
a  very  sober  face  remarked  that  he  would  like  to 
have  the  company  discuss  a  question  which  was  of 
great  importance  to  them  all.  'What  is  it?'  eagerly 
asked  half  a  dozen  voices  ;  but  having  learned  wis- 
dom from  my  past  experience,  I  remained  quiet. 
*My  question  is,'  replied  the  first  speaker,  'What  are 
wx  to  consider  as  the  first  step  of  the  soldier?'  That 
was  indeed  a  question  of  importance,  and  the  dis- 
cussion soon  waxed  warm.  One  asserted  that  the 
first  step  was  to  learn  to  "obey  orders  ;'  others  gave 
answers  like  the  following:  'To  keep  clean.' — 'To 
learn  the  manual  of  arms.' — 'To  cook  the  rations  in 
good  shape.' — "How  to  carry  a  knapsack.' — And 
thus  for  an  hoin*  or  more  the  discussion  went  on. 
I  was  somewhat  grateful  to  the  boy  who  had  pro- 
posed the  question,  for  I  felt  that  the  discussion 
would  benefit  the  men. 

As  they  were  thus  reminding  themselves  of  such 
things  as  were  essential  in  making  good  soldiers,  I 
rejoiced  that  at  least  one  thing  was  being  considered 


1  he    Toung    Volunteer.  227 

by  them  that  did  not  consist  entirely  of  fun.  The 
question  was  at  last  referred  to  me,  and  I,  with  be- 
coming gravity,  informed  them  that  in  my  opinion 
many  of  them  had  given  a  correct  answer  as  to  what 
constituted  the  first  step  of  a  soldier.  But  he  who 
had  propounded  the  question  stood  by  and  shook 
his  head  profoundly  and  said  the  question  had  not 
yet  been  answered. 

'Well,  Mr.  Philosopher,'  I  remarked,  'please  in- 
form the  gentlemen  present  what  constitutes  the 
first  step  of  a  soldier,'  and  to  my  chagrin,  the  an- 
swer came  plump  and  quick, — 

'Twenty-eight  inches,  sir.' 

For  me  to  write  that  the  whole  squad  looked  mad 
enoujjfh  at  their  tormentor  to  demolish  him,  would 
be  stating  the  truth  in  a  very   mild  manner  indeed. 

I  have  decided  that  it  is  no  use  for  me  to  endeavor 
to  keep  up  with  them  in  their  fun  for  they  are  the 
most  incorrigable  wags  that  I  ever  saw.  One  of 
them  went  down  a  few  days  ago  to  the  tent  of  a 
German  sutler,  a  sliort  distance  from  our  regiment, 
and  asked  the  old  fellow  if  he  had  nails  to  sell. 

'Yaw,'  answered  the  proprietor. 

'What  kinds  have  you  to  sell.?'  inquired  the  cus- 
tomer. 


328  Will  Newton^ 

'All  kinds,'  was  the  answer,  as  the  proprietor 
walked  up  to  serve  his  customer. 

'So  then  you  have  all  kinds  of  nails  to  sell?'  per- 
sisted the  other. 

'Yaw,'  said  the  now  provoked  Dutchman.  'Vatch 
you  think  me  for,  one  phool }' 

'Oh,  no,' responded  the  hopeful  youth;  'but  as 
you  have  all  kinds  of  nails  to  sell,  weigh  me  out 
two  pounds  of  finger  nails,  please.' 

The  soldier  ran  away  just  in  time  to  escape  from 
a  huge  bologna  sausage  which  the  angry  Dutchman 
hurled  at  him. 

I  never  knew  them  to  find  their  match  but  once, 
and  that  was  but  a  few  weeks  aofo.  In  one  of  the 
tents  the  chimney  was  built  of  sods,  answering  ev- 
ery purpose  very  well,  but  not  of  a  very  substantial 
character.  Acoloredboy  some  sixteen  years  old  came 
to  our  company  and  the  boys  thought  they  would 
have  some  fun  with  him.  He  was  as  black  as  he 
could  be,  and  especially  prided  himself  in  his  ability 
to  butt  a  fearful  blow  with  his  head.  The  boys  of 
course  were  anxious  for  him  to  give  an  exhibition 
of  his  prowess  in  that  direction.  This  he  was  will- 
ing to  do,  provided  they  would  furnish  some  soft 
object  for  him  to  strike  so  that  his   head  would  not 


'The    Toung    Volu?iteer.  229 

be  injured.  This  they  were  willing  to  do,  and  two 
blankets  were  quickly  rolled  up  into  a  huge  bundle 
to  serve  the  purpose.  This  bundle  was  placed  at 
the  open  fire  place  on  one  side  of  their  tent.  The 
young  negro  backed  up  to  the  other  side  of  the  room 
about  five  yards  away,  took  deliberate  aim,  and  with 
bowed  head  bounded  with  all  his  might  for  the  tar- 
get. The  boys,  in  accordance  with  a  previous  ar- 
rangement, pulled  the  target  away  and  the  negro's 
woolly  head  went  crashing  against  the  back  of  the 
chimney  with  such  force  that  the  whole  structure 
came  tumblinor  dow^n  with  a  terrific  crash. 

The  boys  and  the  negro  came  out  of  the  ruins 
unharmed  ;  but  as  the  former  were  looking  with 
doleful  countenances  upon  the  ruins  of  their  chim- 
ney, the  negro  evidently  fearing  that  they  would  en- 
deavor to  hold  him  responsible  for  the  disaster, 
shook  his  head  defiantly,  and  as  he  walked  away, 
muttered,  'Better  take  care  ob  de  ole  smoke  stack 
when  dis  niggah's  gwine  to  butt !'  and  the  only  con- 
solation left  for  the  boys  was  to  rebuild  their  chim- 
ney." 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  day  that  Will  Newton 
wrote  the  above  letter  to  his  friends  in  Maplewood, 
he  noticed  a  large  farm  house  with  the  usual  num- 


230  Will  Newton^ 

ber  of  small  buildings  around  it  situated  about  a 
third  of  a  mile  outside  the  picket  line,  and  knowing- 
that  there  were  no  rebels  in  that  vicinity,  he  re- 
solved to  visit  it,  and  detailed  two  of  his  men  to  go- 
with  him.  As  fortune  would  have  it,  they  were 
Tom  and  Joe  of  the  famous  "forager's  retreat." 
When  they  reached  the  house  these  two  worthies 
at  once  volunteered  to  wait  outside  while  the  captain 
went  in.  The  owner  of  the  mansion  received  him 
very  graciously  ;  a  pleasant  hour  was  passed  and 
they  returned  to  the  picket  line.  That  night  at  a 
late  hour,  the  entire  picket  force  was  aroused  by  a 
terrible  commotion  outside  the  lines.  Word  was 
passed  along  the  line  that  some  Confederate  cavalry 
were  about  to  make  an  attack  upon  them.  The  men 
"fell  in"  to  resist  the  Confederates,  but  the  noise 
did  not  seem  to  draw  any  nearer  to  them.  There 
were  cries  of  men  and  screams  of  women,  barking 
of  dogs  and  cackling  of  hens  ;  several  shots  were 
fired  and  all  was  pandemonium  itself.  As  soon  as- 
Captain  Newton  was  thoroughly  aroused,  he  saw  at 
once  that  the  noise  was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  farm 
house  which  he  had  on  that  day  visited.  The  noise 
soon  subsided  and  once  more  quiet  reigned  supreme. 
Newton  instantly  surmised  that  his  attendants,  wherfc 


The    Toung    Volunteei'.  231 

he  called  at  the  house,  had  something  to  do  with  the 
midnight  disturbance.  So  on  the  following  morn- 
ing, at  the  first  opportunity  for  doing  so,  he  called 
one  of  them  to  him  and  asked  him  about  it.  There 
was  only  a  moment's  hesitation  and  then  Joe  gave 
the  following  graphic  account  of  the  whole  aflair  : 

"You  see,  sir,  when  w^e  went  out  there  with  you 
yesterday  we  were  looking  around  to  see  if  there  were 
any  Confederates  concealed  around  the  buildings,  and 
to  our  great  surprise  we  found  as  large  a  flock  of 
fine  looking  chickens  as  you  ever  saw,  and  we  also 
discovered  the  place  wdiere  they  kept  them  nights. 
It  was  right  close  beside  the  log  house  occupied  by 
the  negroes.  We  thought  that  you  would  like  to 
have  some  chicken  soup,  and  when  our  relief  came 
off  at  eleven  o'clock  last  night,  Tom  and  I  walked 
over  to  the  house.  It  was  very  dark.  We  found 
where  the  hens  were  but  the  door  was  fastened.  We 
made  a  noise  I  suppose,  in  breaking  that  open,  and 
the  hens  began  to  make  a  little  disturbance.  We 
soon  got  inside  the  building  and  captured  some  five 
or  six  of  the  hens  all  right,  but  Tom  stumbled  over 
something  and  fell  upon  a  low  roost  of  hens  which 
we  knew  nothing  about.  Then  such  a  noise  !  The 
hens  and  roosters  all  screamed  and  yelled  as  if  each 


332  Will  Newton^ 

was  anxious  to  make  the  most  noise.  We  held  our 
breath  and  waited  for  the  noise  to  subside.  The  ne- 
groes heard  the  hens  and  evidently  supposed  that 
some  animal  was  killing  the  poultry  ;  at  any  rate, 
out  they  came,  a  dozen  or  more  men  and  women. 
The  hens  made  such  a  clatter  that  we  did  not  hear 
the  negroes.  I  was  standing  inside  with  my  back 
towards  the  door  of  the  little  house  when  suddenly  a 
man  stumbled  upon  me  and  the  cold  barrel  of  a  gun 
glanced  by  my  ear.  I  thought  of  course  that  the 
Johnnies  were  upon  me,  and  forgetting  every  thing 
else,  being  nearly  dead  with  fright,  I  sprang  straight 
up  in  the  air  and  yelled  for  all  I  was  w^orth.  That 
of  course  frightened  Tom, and  he  jumped  and  yelled 
as  loud  as  he  could.  By  that  time,  the  negroes  who 
were  surprised  to  find  any  human  being  there,  and 
fearing  they  were  about  to  be  killed,  began  to  yell 
and  pray  and  cry  for  mercy.  They  were  jumping 
up  and  down  sw^inging  their  arms  as  they  went.  In 
the  confusion  the  door  got  closed  and  neither  of  us 
could  find  it.  There  w^e  were,  men,  women  and 
hens  all  together.  The  dogs  began  to  bark  and 
howd  and  then  ^\Q  heard  the  report  of  a  gun.  At 
last  Tom  found  the  door  and  we  ran  out  to  ascertain 
who  were  firing  the  guns  ;  and  had  you  been  there, 


The    7'oiing    Volunteer.  233, 

captain,  I  know  you  would  have  laughed.  The  old 
man  and  woman  had  been  aroused  by  the  racket. 
They  occupied  a  room  on  the  second  floor  of  the 
house.  Without  stopping  to  change  their  clothes, 
they  had  lighted  a  lamp.  The  old  woman  was 
loading  the  guns  and  handing  them  to  the  old  man 
who  was  evidently  determined  to  defend  his  castle 
to  the  last.  So  he  would  step  to  the  open  window, 
and  without  taking  aim  would  fire  directly  into 
the  air,  all  the  time  calling  in  loud  tones  for  those 
who  were  making  the  attack  upon  his  home,  to  fly 
or  he  would  kill  them.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  up- 
roar Tom  and  I  left.  It  was  a  very  discouraging 
afiair  for  us,  captain." 

"I  am  very  glad,"  said  the  captain,  "that  you 
failed  in  your  undertaking.  The  excuse  you  have 
m^ade  for  going  there  to  get  chicken  soup  for  me  is 
a  very  poor  one  ;  and  when  you  had  secured  six 
chickens,  by  your  own  report  you  were  not  satisfied. 
How  much  soup  did  you  think  that  I  would  need? 
I  am  ashamed  of  you.  Joe,  and  am  very  glad  that 
you  was  obliged  to  come  back  without  a  single 
chicken." 

"I  did  not  say  that,"  interrupted   Joe,    "we    got 
back  with  five  or  six  of  them  ;  but  we  would  have 


234  ^^^^  Newton^ 

made  a  glorious  haul  if  those  confounded  neoroes 
had  not  interrupted  us."  And  the  worthy  Joe 
departed.  At  noon  however,  a  fine  dish  of  the 
spoils  was  sent  up  to  the  captain. 

One  day,  Captain  Newton,  with  several  other 
officers,  were  riding  outside  the  Federal  picket  lines 
not  far  from  Ely's  Ford  upon  the  Rappahanock 
river.  It  was  at  that  time  a  part  of  the  country 
that  had  not  felt  the  ravages  of  war  as  had  other 
sections  farther  up  the  river.  There  were  large 
plantations  ;  the  fences  remained  undestroyed  ;  and 
large  herds  of  cattle  which  had  not  been  molested 
by  the  soldiers  of  either  army.  They  were  riding 
past  a  field  of  about  twenty  acres  which  was  en- 
closed by  a  very  high  fence,  when  to  their  surprise, 
they  saw  three  Union  soldiers  dashing  across  the 
field  in  pursuit  of  a  huge  fat  buck.  The  men  were 
armed  with  small  revolvers,  and  as  the  animal 
managed  to  keep  a  good  number  of  yards  in  advance 
of  his  pursuers,  he  evidently  was  not  receiving  much 
injury  from  the  small  battery  brought  to  bear  upon 
him.  As  the  pursued  and  pursuers  passed  the  edge 
of  the  field  near  where  the  officers  were  watching, 
unobserved  by  the  soldiers  the  result  of  the  chase, 
Captain  Newton    discovered   that  they  belonged  to 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  235 

his  command, and  were  none  other  than  the  three 
famous  foragers.  Back  and  forth,  to  and  fro,  across 
the  enclosure  the  soldiers  and  sheep  dashed.  At 
times  it  looked  as  if  the  former  were  about  to  seize 
their  prey  ;  and  then  the  gallant  old  buck  would 
leave  his  enemies  far  behind  him  in  his  race  for  life. 
The  spectators  enjoyed  the  scene  very  much,  and 
riiade  many  comments  as  to  its  probable  results. 
Fortune  at  last  seemed  to  favor  the  gallant  pursu- 
ers ;  for  the  old  buck  dashed  into  a  narrow  lane,  the 
only  exit  from  which  was  the  narrow  entrance 
through  which  he  had  entered.  The  soldiers  with 
a  loud  cheer  dashed  to  that  opening,  being  now 
confident  that  the  prize  was  their  own.  They  con- 
tinued their  pursuit  along  the  lane,  which  was  only 
about  two  yards  in  width,  and  as  they  proceeded, 
they  discussed  what  would  be  the  easiest  ^vay  for 
them  to  carry  the  meat  to  their  regiment.  In  the 
meantime,  the  buck  had  reached  the  end  of  the  lane 
and  not  finding  any  avenue  of  escape,  turned  around 
and  walked  defiantly  back  facing  his  pursuers.  The 
boys  saw  him  coming,  and  were  highly  elated. 

*'He  is  coming  back  to  surrender!"  cried  Joe. 

"Yes,"  said  another.  "But  it  must  be  an  uncon- 
ditional surrender,  old  fellow." 


236  Will  New  ion  ^ 

In  a  few  moments  they  were  within  a  few  yards 
of  old  Billy.  The  latter  stopped,  planted  his  fore- 
feet firmly  upon  the  ground,  held  his  head  erect, 
and  looked  pleasantly  upon  the  approaching  parties. 

''Poor  old  fellow,"  said  one  ;  ''He  deeply  regrets 
the  great  trouble  lift  has  caused  us  ;  we  had  better 
not  waste  any  more  ammunition  on  him,  but  catch 
him  and  lead  him  like  a  prisoner  to  camp  ;  it  will  be 
much  easier  than  to  carry  him  after  he  is  killed." 

This  was  quickly  agreed  to  by  the  three  worthies, 
who  walked  deliberately  forward  in  Indian  file  to 
seize  the  foe,  who  had  so  quietly  surrendered.  The 
leader  was  within  two  yards  of  the  buck  when  he 
saw  something  threatening  in  his  appearance.  His 
warning  cry.  -Look  out,  boys  !"  led  to  the  sudden 
drawing  of  the  revolvers  ;  but  that  movement  was  a 
moment  to  late  to  avert  the  threatened  disaster. 
The  old  buck  had  made  a  desperate  charge  upon  his 
assailants. 

For  a  time  things  were  decidedly  mixed.  There 
was  a  rushing  mass  !  The  sharp  crack  of  revolvers. 
Three  soldiers  and  a  sheep,  all  striving  for  the 
uppermost  position.  There  were  shouts  and 
groans. 


The    Young    Volunteer  237 

The  result  of  it  all  was,  a  sheep  bounding  across 
the  field,  and  three  crest-fallen,  blood  stained,  dirt 
covered  soldiers  limping,  not  in  pursuit  of  the 
escaped  prisoner,  but  towards  their  camp  near  Fal- 
mouth. 


le 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

The  pleasant  associations  enjoyed  by  the  army  of 
the  Potomac  in  their  camp  near  Fahnouth  were 
interrupted  during  the  months  of  March  and  April 
by  the  stirring  events  which  were  transpiring  around 
them.  General  Hooker  was  determined  to  have  his 
army  the  best  ever  *' marshaled  upon  the  continent." 
So  there  were  drills,  reviews  and  parades  ;  and  late 
in  the  month  of  April  they  were  prepared  to  cross 
the  Rappahanock  river,  and  attack  the  Confederate 
army. 

The  men  had  the  greatest  confidence  in  their 
commander,  and  expected  to  march  forward  to 
victory.  Captain  Newton's  regiment  was  one  of 
those  which  crossed  the  river  at  Ellis  Ford,  and 
formed  a  portion  of  the  Federal  line  of  battle  upon 
the  extreme  right,  near  the  Chancellorsville  house. 
On  that  fatal  May  afternoon,  when  the  corps  of 
General  Hov^ard  was  so  disastrously  surprised  and 
defeated  by  General  Jackson,  Newton's  regiment 
was  in  an  advanced  position,   directly    in  front    of 


The    Toung    Volu7iteer,  239 

the  Chancellorsville  house,  in  pursuit  of  what  they 
supposed  to  be  the  retreating  Confederates.  That 
portion  of  the  Federal  skirmish  Hne  which  he  at 
that  time  commanded,  had  reached  the  "Brock 
road,"  and  was  pressing  as  rapidly  through  the  dense 
underbrush  as  they  could,  when  the  awful  roar  of 
the  battle,  and  retreat  upon  their  right  and  rear, 
informed  them  of  the  disaster  which  had  turned  the 
tide  of  battle  against  the  Federal  forces.  But  as  he 
received  no  orders  to  fall  back  upon  the  main  line 
of  battle,  they  continued  to  press  onward,  driving 
the  Confederate  skirmishers  before  them.  Before 
the  sun  had  passed  from  view  the  Confederates 
began  to  drive  them  back  ;  and  to  add  to  the  peril  of 
tlieir  position,  they  were  fired  upon  from  the  rear, 
showing:  that  the  Confederates  were  behind  them  as 
well  as  in  front. 

Matters  immediately  became  worse,  and  Will 
Newton  gave  the  order  for  "each  man  to  look  out  for 
himself."  There  was  a  running  skirmish  through 
the  pine  forest.  A  portion  of  the  Federals  managed 
to  escape,  but  a  larger  number  w^ere  captured. 
Captain  Newton  found  himself  surrounded  by  a 
dozen  gray  soldiers  who  demanded  him  to  sur- 
render ;  and  seeing  no  possible  chance  for  escape,  he 


240  Wi'll  Newton^ 

obeyed  with  the  best  grace  he  could  command.  Two* 
of  his  captors  took  him  in  charge  and  started  for 
the  rear.  They  followed  the  Brock  road  to  the 
point  where  it  intersects  with  the  wilderness  turn- 
pike, and  then  followed  the  latter  thoroughfare  to- 
the  old  Wilderness  tavern,  His  captors  were  both 
Virginians,  and  being  very  talkative,  he  gathered 
much  information  from  them. 

"You'ens  have  got  it  this  time,"  said  one  of  them. 

"What  about  the  battle  on  our  right?"  asked 
Newton. 

"We'ens  have  gone  in  thar  right  smart,  I  reckon,'* 
said  the  Confederate. 

"What  has  been  the  result?"  anxiously  enquired 
the  Federal.  « 

"Old  Jack  has  captured  your  whole  right  wing, 
and  before  midnight,  your  whole  army  will  either 
be  captured  or  driven  back  across  the  Rappahan- 
ock,"  responded  the  exultant  Confederate. 

When  the  three  men  reached  the  old  turnpike 
which  led  directly  from  the  battle  field  to  the  Wil- 
derness tavern,  it  did  look  as  if  the  Confederates'" 
declaration  was  true  ;  for  the  Federals  were  coming 
back  as  prisoners  by  thousands.  Alany  of  them 
were  Germans,  Avho  looked  so  thorouHilv  friMitenedi 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  241 

that  one  would  suppose  they  had  lost  their  last 
earthly  friend. 

*' How  many  men  have  you  in  the  fight?"  asked 
Newton  of  his  captors. 

"Reckon  we'ens  are  equal  to  about  two  hundred 
thousand,"  said  the  other. 

"Oh,  no,  that  cannot  be  !"  replied  Newton.  "How 
do  you  reckon .?" 

"Well,  sir,"  responded  the  Confederate;  "we 
have  fifty  thousand  men  ;  then  ole  massa  Bob  Lee 
is  equal  to  fifty  thousand  more,  and  ole  'Jack'  is 
good  for  a  round  hundred  thousand,  making  us 
equal  to  two  hundred  thousand  men."  And  the 
fellow^  grinned  at  his  own  wit  and  assurance. 

Will  Newton  now  found  himself*  in  a  novel  situa- 
tion. He  was  a  prisoner  of  war ;  and  with  some 
two  thousand  other  prisoners  was  guarded  within  a 
large  field  near  the  old  tavern.  They  ^vere  six  miles 
from  the  battle  field  ;  but  the  roar  of  the  conflict 
could  be  distinctly  heard.  Darkness  came  on,  but 
the  battle  raged  with  unabated  vigor.  Confederate 
couriers  were  dashing  back  from  the  front  reporting 
great  successes  gained  by  their  army  and  corres- 
ponding disasters  for  the  Federals.    All  this  added 


242  Wi'll  Nevjfon, 

to  the  gloom  resting  upon  the  hearts  of  the  prison- 
ers. 

Late  in  the  evening,  rumors  came  back  to  the 
Wilderness  tavern  that  some  reverse  had  befallen 
the  Confederates.  The  Federal  prisoners  and  Con- 
federate guards  each  anxiously  waited  to  learn  what 
the  disaster  was.  At  midnight  it  was  stated  that 
Stonewall  Jackson  ,was  seriously  wounded,  and 
would  soon  be  broiight  back  to  that  point  in  an 
ambulance.  This  report  was  quickly  confirmed  by 
the  arri\'al  of  that  wounded  general.  The  Confed- 
erates w^ere  loud  in  their  expressions  of  sorrow  over 
their  great  misfortune  ;  for  they  contended  that  the 
death  of  Jackson  would  be  the  most  serious  loss 
which  their  army  could  sustain. 

It  can  be  easily  imagined  how  anxious  Will 
Newton  was  to  escape  from  his  imprisonment  and 
rejoin  his  regiment ;  and  during  the  early  hours  of 
the  night  he  was  on  the  alert  to  improve  the  first 
tavorable  opportunity.  But  it  was  nearly  daylight 
before  he  ^aw^  any  hope  of  succeeding.  The  Con- 
federate guards  were  not  only  tired  and  sleepy,  but 
were  very  much  oppressed  with  the  misfortune 
which  had  befallen  their  great  leader,  General  Jack- 
son.    As  tlie  Federal  prisoners  were  all  lying  upon 


n 

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mm 


The    Young    Volunteer.  245, 

the  ground,  as  they  supposed  asleep,  the  guards 
relaxed  their  accustomed  vigilance,  and  gathered  in 
groups  of  two  or  three  along  the  line  surrounding 
the  Federals  and  talked  over  the  situation.  Will 
Newton  made  his  way  upon  his  hands  and  knees 
near  to  where  two  of  the  sentinels  stood  talking, 
and  heard  one  of  them  sav  :  "We  have  licked  the 
blue  bellies  again." 

"Yes,"  said  the  other,  "but  if  old  Jack  dies  we 
are  the  losers."  ^ 

"That  is  so,"  replied  the  other.  '"Old  Jack  is 
worth  more  to  us  than  the  whole  Yankee  army, 
even  if  we  had  captured  it  all." 

While  the  two  jjuards  w^ere  thus  talkins"  over  the 
state  of  affairs.  Will  Newton  continued  his  course 
upon  his  hands  and  knees  and  was  soon  out  of  sight 
of  the  g^uards.  He  then  arose  to  .his  feet  and  ran 
towards  the  woods  as  fast  as  he  could  go.  When 
he  considered  himself  at  a  safe  distance  from  his 
guards  he  paused  to  decide  upon  what  course  to  pur- 
sue to  rejoin  the  Federal  army.  His  first  thought 
was  to  strike  out  in  a  course  directly  opposite  from 
the  battle  field  and  then  make  a  wide  circuit  through 
the  forest,  crossing  one  of  the  upper  fords  of  the 
Rappahanock  and    thus    escape  to    his    command. 


344  Will  Newton^ 

But  he  finally  decided  that    the  boldest  plan  would 

be  both  the  safest  and  the  easiest. 

The  road  leading  from   the  Wilderness  tavern  to 
the  Confederate  army  upon  the  battle  field  at  Chan- 
ceilorsviile    was  filled  with  stragglers  and  wounded 
men    making  their  way  back  to  the  rear.       All  was 
disorder    and    confusion,    but   as    it  was   so   dark, 
the  color  of  a   uniform    could  not  be  distinguished. 
Newton  resolved  to  walk  along  that  road, and  if  pos- 
sible, thus  make  his  escape.        He  accordingly   en- 
tered   the    turnpike    and    walked    on    very  quickly 
towards  Chancellorsville.   Throwing- off  his  officer's 
coat  and  hat,  bare  headed   and  in  his  shirt  sleeves, 
he  was  enabled  to  walk  with  great  rapidity,  so  that 
when  daylight  dawned  he  was  where  the  battle  had 
,     began  the  previous  day.        He    saw    an   old  pair  of 
gray  trowsers  upon  the  ground  and   drew   them  on 
over  his  own.    He  also  found  an  old  white  hat,  and 
picking  up    a    musket    and    equipments  from    the 
ground    he  boldly  marched   for  the  front  as  a  Con- 
federate soldier.     He  met  a  small  group  of  Confed- 
erate officers.       "Where  are  you  going,  my  man.?" 
demanded  one  of  them. 

"To  the  front  to  revenge  Jackson,"  replied  New- 
ton, as  he  trudged  onward. 


The    Toung    Volunteer .  245 

He  did  not  continue  his  way  along  the  road  but 
directed  his  step  towards  the  Confederate  left.  Soon 
reaching  their  line  of  battle,  which  he  found  in  a 
very  demoralized  condition,  and  without  attracting 
any  special  notice  from  the  men  who  supposed  he 
was  simply  in  search  of  his  regiment  somewhere  in 
the  line,  he  passed  on  to  the  skirmish  line.  Here  he 
quickly  ascertained  that  he  was  in  close  proximity 
to  the  Federals.  The  pickets  were  exchanging 
shots  with  great  rapidity,  being  separated  by  a  dis- 
tance of  about  a  hundred  yards.  Will  Newton  dis- 
played great  zeal  as  a  skirmisher  for  a  short  time, 
loading  and  firing  with  rapidity,  but  taking  good 
care  to  aim  so  high  that  he  would  not  injure  any  of 
his  comrades  on  the  other  skirmish  line.  He  grad- 
ually worked  his  way  to  the  front  in  advance  of  the 
Confederate  skirmishers. 

"Look  out  how  you  go  out  there  !"  said  one  ;  "for 
those  Yankees  are  shooting  mighty  careless  this 
morning." 

Newton,  did  not  heed  this  timely  caution,  but  con- 
tinued to  dodge  from  tree  to  tree  until  he  thought 
he  had  reached  a  place  where  it  would  be  wise  for 
him  to    change  his    tactics  ;  so    throwing  down  hi^ 


246  will  Newton, 

gun  he  ran  like  a  deer  for  the  Federal  picl^ets  shout- 
ing as  he  ran,  ''Don't  shoot !  don't  shoot !" 

The  Confederates  sent  a  few  shots  after  him,  but 
to  his  great  joy,  he  safely  reached  his  comrades  and 
quickly  made  himself  known  to  them  and  narrated 
■his  method  of  escape.  The  men  gave  him  a  hearty 
welcome,  furnishing  him  with  a  few  hard-tack  and 
giving  him  all  the  facts  which  they  knew  about  the 
disastrous  defeat  of  General  Howard  on  the  preced- 
ing day,  while  he  in  turn  informed  them  of  the  serious 
wounding  of  the  great  Confederate  General,  Stone- 
wall Jackson.  This  intelligence  elated  the  Federals 
as  much  as  it  had  discouraged  the  Confederates. 
Thev  declared  that  thev  did  not  care  for  the  whole 
rebel  army  if  Jackson  was  only  out  of  the  way. 

Captain  Newton  pursued  his  Journey  through  the 

woods  until  he  reached   the  Chancellorsville  house, 

where  General  Hooker  had   several  days  before  es- 

'  tablished  his  head-quarters.      Here   he   saw  a  fecene 

of  confusion  almost  beyond  description. 

He  made  his  ^vay  through  the  crowds  of  stragglers 
and  wounded  soldiers  and  soon  learned  that  his  regi- 
ment was  in  the  line  of  battle  at  Fair  View%  a  few 
•  hundred  yards  in    front  of  Hooker's  head-quarters. 


The    Young    V^olunteer.  247 

He  immediately  joined  his  company  who  welcomed 
him  with  three  cheers  and  a  tiger. 

Captain  Newton  was  glad  to  find  that  his  regi- 
ment Ijad  not  sustained  a  great  loss  on  the  previous 
day,  were  now  in  good  fighting  trim  and  waiting 
for  the  rebels  to  make  an  attack  upon  them. 

They  had  not  long  to   wait,  for  the  reckless  Gen. 

Stewart,  who    took   command    of  Jackson's  troops 

that  morning,  immediately  ordered  them  to  charge 

.  upon  the  Federal  lines  and  sweep  every  thing  before 

them. 

It  was  on  Sunday  morning  that  this  terrible  charge 
was  made.  The  Federals  had  the  advantage  of  su- 
perior numbers  and  also  of  position.  The  Confed- 
erates had  the  great  advantage  of  superior  general- 
-  ship  and  went  to  their  work  determined  to  win. 
They  were  inspired  by  the  victory  of  Saturday,  and 
•  also  with  a  desire  to  revenge  the  fall  of  General 
Jackson.  The  greatest  fury  of  the  charge  fell  upon 
the  Federal  line  around  Fair  View.     The  line  was 

•  formed  on  the  crest  of  a  little  hill  on  the  edge  of  the 
'  woods  and  the  whole  brow  of  the  hill  frowned  with 

•  batteries.  The  Confederates  came  through  the 
woods  with  the  most  reckless  desperation.  Twice 
they  charged    upon  the    Federal  line   and  were  re- 


348  Will  Newton^ 

pulsed.  The  ground  shook  under  the  combined 
roar  of  the  artillery  of  both  armies.  Shells  were 
bursting  every  where.  The  Confederates  charged 
the  third  time.  The  Federal  line  was  obliged  to 
recoil.  Captain  Newton's  regiment  was  flanked 
from  its  position  and  with  a  fearful  loss  was  driven 
backward.  They  rallied  however,  and  made  a  stand 
among  the  battery  guns  which  they  were  to  defend. 
It  was  a  deadly  struggle.  Confederate  shells  fired 
from  batteries  beyond  the  woods  fell  upon  them 
killing  blue  and  gray  alike.  The  battery  horses 
were  all  killed.  Dead  and  dying  men  lay  beside 
the  guns  where  they  had  fallen.  The  Confederates 
were  determined  to  capture  the  artillery  and  the 
Federals  were  resolved  to  save  them.  Will  New- 
ton and  his  company  fought  beside  a  section  of  a 
brass  battery.  Six  times  in  quick  succession  did  the 
fearless  Confederates  plant  their  torn  flag  upon  the  • 
guns  and  as  many  times  did  Newton  and  his  men 
drive  them  back.  The  gunners  fought  with  their 
rammers,  handspikes  and  every  thing  else  w^hich 
they  could  use.  When  the  enemy  was  driven  from 
the  guns  for  the  last  time,  over  half  of  Newton's 
company  was  killed  or  wounded.  Then  came  or- 
ders to  fall  back  in  order  to  contract  the  lines.     The 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  249 

wounded  men  were  assisted  a  short  distance  to  the 
rear.  The  dead  were  left  upon  the  field.  But  how 
could  the  ofuns  be  removed?  The  officers  in  com- 
mand  of  them  were  all  slain  and  there  were  no 
horses  to  draw  them  away. 

•'We  can  haul  them  oft' ourselves  1"  shouted  Cap- 
tain Newton,  as  he  sprang  forward  to  assist  in  the 
work. 

But  at  that  m.oment  half  a  dozen  Confederate  shells 
burst  around  them,  and  both  gun-carriages  were 
disabled. 

"What  shall  we  do  with  them  now  V  asked  New- 
ton .  !; 

A  grizzly  old  gunner  with  a  terrible  wound  in 
his  face,  replied,  "The  rebels  must  not  have  these 
guns,  sir.  Here  is  a  deep  well  into  which  we  could 
dump  them.  I  don't  think  they  would  get  them 
out  in  a  hurry." 

"All  right !''  shouted  Newton.  "Boys,  pitch  them 
down  the  well !" 

There  was  but  little  time  for  them  to  perform  the 
task,  for  the  rebels  were  already  charging  again  in 
their  front  and  nearly  surrounding  them.  The  men 
responded  to  the  call  of  Newton  with  a  cheer,  and 
the  two  great  brass  guns  went  plunging  down  forty 


250  Wz7l  Newton. 

feet  to  the  bottom  of  the  well.  Then  back  across  the 
field  they  ran  only  in  time  to  escape  being  captured  . 
by  the  victorious  Confederates. 

Before  noon  Chancellorsville  was  in  the  possession 
of  General  Stewart.  The  Federals  met  with  dis- 
aster every  where  upon  the  field  of  Chancellorsville, 
and  notwithstanding  the  bravery  of  the  Federal  sol- 
diers and  the  skill  of  many  officers,  the  great  army 
of  General  Hooker  retreated  across  the  Rappahan- 
ock  river,  leaving  thousands  of  their  dead  and 
wounded  in  the  hands  of  an  enemy  whom  they  out- 
numbered nearly  three  to  one. 

Through  a  drenching  rain  storm  the  soldiers 
tramped  through  the  mud  w^ith  an  uncomplaining 
fortitude  and  returned  to  their  old  winter  quarters 
around  Fal month. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

During  the  latter  half  of  the  month  of  June,  1863, 
the  army  of  the  Potomac  followed  the  Rebel  army 
under  General  Lee  across  the  Potomac  river,  through 
the    state  of  Maryland,   and  entered   Pennsylvania. 
Captain  Newton  at  the  head  of  his  company,  marched 
all  these  weary  miles.     There  were  many  excellent 
men  in  his  command  of  whom  he  was  justly  proud  ; 
and  he  had  no  fear  but  that  when  the  enemy    was 
encountered    upon  the  held  of  battle,  his  company 
w^ould  maintain  its  good  reputation  for  bravery  and 
discipline.      He  was  on  the  most  intimate    terms  of 
friendship  with  every  man.  and  yet  there  were  none 
for  whom  he  cherished  the  same  feelings  which  he 
had  for  Bill  Logan  and  Dan  Eliott.      He  had  hoped 
when  they  crossed    the    Potomac  river  and  entered 
Maryland,  that  an  opportunity  would  be  offered  him 
to  visit  their  graves,  and  also  look  in  upon  his  old 
friends  near  Sharpsburg.      But  in  marching  through 
Maryland,  near  Frederick  City,  they  learned  that  all 
the    passes    of    the    South   ^Mountain    range    were 


252  Will  Newton, 

guarded  by  the  Confederates,  so  that  privilege  was 
denied  to  him. 

It  was  evident  to  all,  that  when  the  Confederates 
were  encountered,  there  would  be  the  greatest  con- 
flict of  the  war.  Each  day  Captain  Newton  prayed 
that  his  Heavenly  Father  would  so  govern  and  con- 
trol the  affairs  of  the  Nation,  that  when  the  battle 
was  fought,  it  would  be  decided  in  favor  of  ihe 
Federals,  and  inflict  the  death  blow  upon  the  Con- 
federates. 

It  was  while  the  army  was  thus  marching  through 
Maryland,  that  General  Hooker  resigned  his  com- 
mand and  Genei'al  Meade  was  promoted  to  fill  the 
position.  Late  on  the  night  of  July  first.  Will  New- 
ton reached  Gettysburg.  His  regiment  had  made  a 
most  weary  march  to  reach  that  point,  for  a  battle 
had  been  raging  nearly  all  day.  Two  army  corps, 
the  first  and  eleventh,  commanded  respectively  by 
Generals  Reynolds  and  Howard,  had  met  the  Con- 
federate army,  and  after  a  desperate  battle  had  been 
driven  back  with  "-reat  loss.  General  Revnolds 
himself,  one  of  the  most  gallant  and  skillful  officers 
in  the  army,  being  among  the  slain.  The  victorious 
Confederates  were  now  in  their  immediate  front,  and 
the  battle  would  be  renewed  in  the  morninsf.     The 


The    Toung   Volunteer.  253 

exhausted  men  threw  themselves  upon  the  ground 
to  get  a  little  rest  and  sleep.  The  stars  twinkled 
peacefully  upon  the  scene.  The  stillness  of  night 
w^as  broken  however,  by  the  sharp  crack  of  the 
picket's  rifle,  and  by  the  preparation  which  w^as 
being  made  for  the  battle  of  the  morrow.  It  is  a 
great  mercy  that  soldiers  can  sleep  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, and  that  even  their  dreams  are  not  dis- 
turbed by  the  dark  shadows  of  coming  events. 
Thousands  of  men  slept  that  night  on  the  fields  of 
Gettysburg  who  on  the  following  night  would  sleep 
the  sleep  of  death.  Yet  their  dreams  were  pleasant ;  — 
peace,  the  Union  unbroken,  home,  friends  and  rest, 
were  the  objects  which,  like  beautiful  paintings, 
they  gazed  upon  during  those  unconscious  hours. 

In  the  earlv  dawn  of  Tulv  second.  Will  Newton 
and  his  comrades  were  aroused,  that  they  might  be 
ready  for  any  emero^ency  which  should  arise.  Their 
regiment  was  not  placed  in  the  front  line  of  battle, 
but  was  held  in  reserve.  During  all  the  forenoon 
no  general  engagement  was  brought  on.  There 
was  some  skirmishing,  each  picket  on  either  side 
being  ever  on  the  alert  to  shoot  his  antagonist  upon 
the  other  picket  line.     So  that  the  sharp    crack  of 


254  ^^'^^  Newton^ 

rifles  and  the  music  of  the  minie-ball  were  constantly 

heard. 

It  is  always  an  interesting-  study  to  watch  a  regi- 
ment of  old  soldiers  when  they  are  waiting  for 
orders  to  move  into  battle.  The  experience  gained 
in  past  conflicts  has  taught  them  that  war  is  no 
child's  play  ;  and  that  the  glory  of  the  battle  field  is 
only  desirable  and  enjoyable  when  seen  upon  paper. 
There  is  not  much  talk  made.  A  recruit  here  and 
there  expresses  a  desire  to  engage  in  this  his  first 
battle  ;  but  he  is  looked  upon  with  unmingled  pity 
and  contempt  by  his  veteran  comrades  as  he  makes 
such  thoughtless  remarks.  Many  of  the  bravest 
men  look  pale  and  gloomy ;  some  are  grimly 
engaged  in  examining  their  guns  and  equipments, 
that  they  may  be  in  the  most  effective  condition  ; 
others  are  occupied  in  conversation,  speaking  in  low 
tones,  as  if  loud  conversation  would  awaken  the 
elements  of  the  battle.  Some  are  carefully  re-pack- 
ing their  baggage  and  looking  u})on  the  small 
articles  of  treasure  which  have  been  their  compan- 
ions for  so  long  a  time.  A  few  were  sleeping  as 
if  to  secure  by  it  renewed  vigor  and  strength.  A 
large  proportion  were  busily  engaged  in  writing 
letters.      Will    Newton    was    included    in    the    last 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  255 

named  class.  He  had  just  completed  a  long  letter 
to  his  friend  at  Maplewood.  The  epistle  thus  in- 
dited was  as  follows : 

Gettysburg,  Penn. ,  July  2nd,  1S63. 
My  Dear  Mr.  Lamb  :• 

We  are  here  upon  the  battle   field  waiting  for  the 
great  conflict  to  open.     We  have  had  a  long,  weary 
march  from  where  I  wrote  you  last.    When  we  came 
through  the  State  of  Maryland  I  was  very  anxious  to 
visit  the  graves  of  my  old  comrades   at  Boonsboro  ; 
but  the  presence  of  the  Confederates  prevented  it. 
My  men,  like  myself,  are   very  much  exhausted  by  - 
the   long   forced    march.      The   battle    here    began 
yesterday   when  w^e  were  thirty  miles    away.     As 
you  w^ill  have  learned  by  the  papers,  the   Federal 
troops  were  outnumbered    and  defeated  with  a  heavy 
loss.     The  one  redeeming  feature  about  it  is  this. 
Our  soldiers  fought   with  great  gallantry,  inflicting 
severe  losses  upon  the  enemy   and  holding  them  back 
until  re-inforcements    arrived.     General    Reynolds, 
commander  of  the  first  corps,  was  killed.      VVe  ex- 
pect the  battle  to  open  every  minute.     It  will  be  one 
of  the    most    important  and    desperate  of  the  war. 
Our  line   of  battle  is  formed  upon  a  long   ridge  of 
land  and  is  well  protected  by  artillery.    If  the  enemy 
make   an  attack   upon  us  in  this  position    we  shall 
have  a  great  advantage  over  them.     Many  lives  will 
be  sacrificed  for  the  country  here  to-day.     My  own 
is  quite  liable  to  be  included  in  that  list.     And  feel- 
ing this,  I  could  not  refrain  from  writing  these  lines 
to  you,  my  best  and  dearest  living  friend.     I   have 
never  regretted  for  a  single  moment  that  I  enlisted  ; 
for  the  longer  I  remain  here,  the  more  thoroughh^ 
am    I   convinced    that    the    war    must   go    on  until 


356  Will  Newton^ 

slavery  is  abolished  and  the  doctrine  of  State  Rights 
be  destroyed  ;  and  if  it  is  my  lot  to  fall,  all  is  well. 
My  life  will  have  been  a  success.  In  case  this  is- 
my  last  letter,  you  understand  my  wishes  in  relation 
to  all  my  worldly  affairs.  In  that  event,  if  my  grave 
is  marked,  convey  my  remains  to  Maplewood  and 
place  them  beside  father  and  mother.  Give  my 
kindest  regards  to  your  family  :  assure  them  artd  all 
the  friends  in  Maplewood  that  I  have  never  for- 
gotten them,  or  the  many  tokens  of  favor  which  they 
have  shown  me. 

Hoping  that  this  will  find  you  all    well,  I  remain 
as  ever. 

# 

Your  friend. 

Will  Newton. 

The  battle  on  the  second  day  at  Gettysburg  was- 
opened  by  General  Lee,  who  threw  forward  his 
right  wing  under  command  of  General  Longstreet. 
This  movement  brought  the  corps  commanded  by 
the  last  named  officer  in  collision  with  the  third 
corps  of  the  Federal  army  commanded  by  General 
vSickles.  These  troops  were  posted  upon  the  Em- 
mettsburg  turnpike  in  a  singular  and  somewhat 
unfortunate  formation.  The  Confederates  moved  to- 
the  attack  with  great  gallantry  and  vigor.  Their 
batteries  gained  a  position  from  which  they  enfiladed 
the  line  of  General  Sickles.  The  brave  Union  troops 
fought    like    men    who  knew    that    the   honor  and 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  257 

safety  of  their  country  depended  upon  their  conduct 
The  battle  as  thus  opened  by  Longstreet's  two  divis- 
ions, commanded  by  Generals  McLaws  and  Hood, 
throwing  themselves  upon  the  veterans  of  the  third 
corps,  was  one  of  the  wildest  spectacles  presented 
during  the  war.  Back  and  forth  the  two  lines 
rolled  again  and  again,  looking  like  moving  wind- 
rows of  fire  as  they  fought.  But  it  soon  became 
apparent  to  General  Meade  that  Sickles  must  be 
re-inforced  or  his  entire  corps  would  be  destroyed. 
It  was  a  most  critical  moment,  not  only  in  the 
history  of  the  battle,  but  also  in  the  history  of  the 
Nation  and  of  Christian  civilization. 

But  thanks  to  the  tardiness  of  General  Lee  in 
making  the  attack,  re-inforcements  were  at  hand. 
Messengers  pressed  the  spurs  against  the  flanks  of 
their  steeds  and  dashed  here  and  there  over  the  field, 
and  soon  lines  of  men  were  in  motion  marching-  to 
re-inforce  the  shattered  columns  of  Sickles.  Among 
these  was  the  regiment  of  Will  Newton.  Down 
over  the  northern  slope  of  Cemetery  ridge  the}' 
came  upon  the  double-quick.  They  were  led  into 
the  battle  at  that  famous  point  known  as  the  peach 
orchard,  at  the  point  of  the  fatal  angle  in  the  line  of 
General  Sickles.     It  was  an  awful  tide  of  death  and 


258  Will   Newton, 

disaster  which  they  were  thus  called  upon  to  breast. 

Shells  were  screaming  through  the  air,  bursting 
in  the  g-round.  and  filling"  the  air  with  clouds  of 
earth  and  hundreds  of  deadly  missiles  ;  solid  shot 
was  bounding-  like  foot-balls  through  the  ranks  and 
above  the  heads  of  the  men  ;  the  fatal  minie-balls 
were  coming  like  hailstones  from  a  storm  cloud; 
men  dead  and  d3ing  were  scattered  upon  the  ground  ; 
others  with  ghastly  wounds  were  painfully  walking 
to  the  rear  ;  scores  of  battery  horses  were  either 
disabled  or  flying  riderless  across  the   fields. 

Such  was  the  fight  into  which  Will  Newton  led 
his  men  on  that  memorable  afternoon.  As  the  new 
line  formed  with  a  cheer,  the  shattered  fragments  of 
the  old  line  gave  way  and  went  back  in  confusion. 
The  Confederates  followed  up  their  advantage  with 
much  vigor  and  burst  like  a  tornado  upon  the  Fed- 
eral line.  They  struck  Newton's  regiment  like  a 
tidal-wave  of  death.  Ilis  company  was  in  the  cen- 
ter, at  the  colors  ;  both  wings  of  the  regiment  were 
sw-ept  away  while  the  center  was  shattered  by  the 
storm  of  iron  missiles  which  burst  upon  it.  Will 
Newton  called  upon  his  men  to  stand  firm.  The 
color-sergeant  was  shot  down,  and  everv  member  of 
the    color    guard    was    either    killed     or    disabled. 


The    Young    Vohmteer.  259 

Will  Newton  caught  up  the  colors  and  gave  them 
to  a  sergea;it  in  his  own  company.  By  this  time 
the  Confederates  had  advanced  so  near  that  it  was- 
simply  a  hand  to  hand  conflict,  with  the  great  advan- 
tage of  superior  numbers  on  the  side  of  the  Confed- 
erates.  Captain  Newton  stood  in  ftont  of  his  men- 
fig-htino:  like  a  demon.  He  did  not  notice  that  his 
supporters  had  nearly  all  been  disabled  or  pressed 
back  ;  that  he  was  almost  alone  and  surrounded  by 
his  foes.  A  rifle  ball  went  crashing  through  his 
shoulder  and  lung-s.  He  fell.  There  w^as  no  Dan 
Eliott  or  Bill  Logan  to  defend  him.  The  Confed- 
erates rushed  on,  and  Will  Newton,  wounded  and 
unconscious,  was  left  within  the  enemy's  lines. 

As  the  afternoon  waned  the  conflict  increased  in 
its  fury.  The  slaughter  was  almost  unparalleled  in 
the  histor}-  of  the  civil  war.  Darkness  alone  caused 
a  cessation  of  the  horrors,  and  the  survivors  sank 
once  more  upon  the  ground  to  rest.  Thousands  of 
brave  men  were  lying  wounded  upon  the  field  and 
their  groans  were  heart-rending.  Others  lay  with 
their  cold  faces  turned  upward  their  dumb  lips 
speaking  in  condemnation  of  violence  and  war. 
Over  two-thirds  of  Captain  Newton's  regiment  was 
reported  killed  or  wounded  that  night,  and  among 


36o  Will  New  Ion  ^ 

all  the  lost,  there  was  not  one  who  was  more  sadly 
missed  than  was  Will  Newton. 

The  third  day  dawned  over  the  wearied  but  un- 
daunted hosts  which  for  two  days  had  fought  on  the 
battle  field  of  Gettysburg.  Neither  army  was  will- 
ing to  call  it  a  d;-awn  game.  The  battle  opened  on 
the  Federal  right  at  an  early  hour  and  raged  until 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  an  important  advan- 
tage being  gained  by  the  Federal  soldiers. 

All  was  quiet  until  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon 
when  one  hundred  and  fifty  guns  on  either  side 
opened  the  most  terrific  cannonade  that  ever  shook 
the  continent.  For  an  hour  this  duel  lasted.  It 
was  appalling  beyond  all  description.  Then  came 
the  grand  charge  of  General  Pickett's  splendid  di- 
vision. This  movement  was  the  forlorn  hope  of 
the  Confederates,  and  it  was  without  doubt  the  most 
magnificent  charge  of  the  war.  They  reached  the 
Federal  lines  and  were  for  a  few  moments  victori- 
ous ;  but  they  were  overpowered,  flanked,  nearly 
surrounded  and  overwhelmed.  Very  many  were 
killed  and  wounded  ;  others  were  captured  and  only 
a  small  remnant  escaped  to  the  Confederate  line. 

This  was  the  last  demonstration  made  upon  that 
historic  field.        Sadlv   did   General  Lee  reform  his 


The    Yozing    Volunteer,  261 

broken  columns  and  prepare  to  escape  by  a  rapid 
retreat  across  the  mountain  and  the  Potomac  river 
to  Virginia.  The  army  of  General  Meade,  sadly 
smitten  and  decimated,  could  not  make  a  vigorous 
pursuit.  Over  fifty  thousand  men  had  been  killed, 
wounded  or  captured. 

The  rebellion  had  touched  its  high  water  mark 
and  from  that  hour  its  fortunes  beofan  to  wane.  The 
North  was  encouraged  by  this  great  victory  to  make 
large  preparations  to  prosecute  the  war,  which 
thenceforth  was  to  be  carried  on  upon  a  more  mag- 
nificent scale  than  before. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

It  was  the  fourth  day  of  July,  1863.  The  tele- 
graphic wires  had  flashed  all  over  New  England 
the  intelligence  of  the  great  victory  won  by  the  Fed- 
eral army  at  Gettysburg.  It  was  a  season  of  min- 
gled pleasure  and  grief; — joy,  on  account  of  victory 
and  safety  for  the  Union,  and  grief  for  the  wounded 
and  dead.  The  papers  were  filled  with  long  lists 
of  names  which  were  scanned  with  the  greatest  in- 
terest by  every  one.  Ever}^  town  in  New  England 
\vas  thrilled  with  a  new  life.  Maplewood  was  no 
exception.  That  village  had  many  gallant  sons  who 
had  fought  on  that  field,  and  there  was  the  greatest 
anxiety  on  the  part  of  relatives  and  friends  to  ascer- 
tain what  their  fiite  had  been. 

Among  those  who  were  waiting  at  the  post-ofiice 
for  the  arrival  of  the  daily  mail  and  the  morning 
papers,  was  our  old  friend,  Jerry  Lamb.  His  smil- 
ing red  face  was  this  morning  pale  and  anxious  as 
if  some  great   care  pressed    upon    his  mind.     The 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  263 

long  looked  for  papers  arrived.  Jerry  Lamb  se- 
cured his  mail,  sprang  into  the  buggy,  and  as  his 
horse  walked  towards  home  he  anxiously  looked 
over  the  columns  of  casualties. 

*'Oh,  God,  how  horrible  !"  he  groaned,  as  he  saw 
the  long  lists  of  the  killed.  x\fter  some  difficulty 
he  found  the  regiment  for  which  he  was  so  anxiously 
looking,  and  almost  the  first  name  that  caught  his 
eyew^as  "Captain  Newton  wounded,  probably  mor- 
tal, and  captured."  That  was  all,  but  it  was  enough. 
The  paper  dropped  from  Jerry's  hand  ;  the  reins 
lay  loosely  upon  the  horse's  back.  Great  tears  rolled 
down  the  good  man's  cheeks  ;  sobs  came  surging 
from  his  heart.  He  could  only  say,  "It  is  too  bad  ! 
too  bad  I  too  bad  T 

After  a  few  moments  he  recovered  himself.  Again 
he  read  that  fatal  line,  "Will  Newton,  wounded, 
probably  mortal,  and  captured."  He  drew  up  the 
reins  firmly,  the  \vhip  cracked  upon  the  back  of  the 
astonished  horse  who  rushed  frantically  along  the 
road. 

Jerry  Lamb  reached  home.  He  dashed  into  the 
house  where  his  family  were  anxiously  awaiting  the 
news.  "Listen  !"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  authority, 
and  once  more  read  that  sentence  which  had  been 


% 


-264     -  IVi'll  Neivtofi, 

hastily  constructed  by  some  newspaper  correspond- 
ent on  the  field  of  battle.  ''Will  Xewton,  wounded, 
probably  mortal,  and  captured."  "You  see,"  cried 
Jerry,  "it  is  not  a  settled  fiict  that  Will  is  dead.  All 
hope  is  not  lost.     Here,  Sam  !"  calling  to  the  hired 

man,  "turn  that  horse  and  carry  me  to  D .     I 

shall  take  the  first  train  for  Gettysburg." 

"Why  husband  !"  "Why  father  !"  cried  a  quar- 
tette of  voices  ;   "are  you  insane.^" 

"No  ;  but  I  shall  be  unless  I  can  find  poor  Will 
Newton,  dead  or  alive.  Good-bye  all," — and  with- 
out waiting  to  change  his  wearing  apparel  he  ran 
to  the  carriage,  waved  a  final   adieu  and  was  gone. 

"Well,  I  never!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Lamb. 

"I  am  so  glad  he  has  gone.  Poor  Will,"  sobbed 
Miss  Lamb. 

"Gracious  !  won't  he  have  a  bis:  time  lookinsfover 
the  battle  field  ;  wish  he  had  taken  us  both  along 
with  him  !"  exclained  the  two  young  Lambs  in  a 
chorus. 

When  the  train  reached  Gettvsburgr  at  noon,  on 
the  sixth  day  of  July,  a  large  number  of  gentlemen 
and  ladies  alighted  from  it.  Many  were  correspond- 
ents ;  others  who  came  to  look  the  field  over  to 
gratify  their  curiosity  ;  some  to  assist  in  the  general 


The    Young    Volunteer.  265 

care  of  the  wounded,  while  many,  very  many  came 
on  the  sad  errand  of  looking  for  their  friends,  un- 
certain as  to  their  fate.  Among  the  latter  was  Jerry 
Lamb.  He  sprang  from  the  train  almost  before.it 
had  ceased  to  move,  and  seeing  an  officer  standing 
near  he  ran  up  to  him  and  said,  ••Tell  me,  sir, 
where  the  boss  of  the  concern  can  be  found. ^" 

The  officer  smiled  as  he  replied,  ••If}oumean 
the  'medical  director,'  you  will  find  his  office  where 
that  flag  is  flying  yonder." 

Mr.  Lamb  remained  to  hear  no  more  and  soon 
reached  the  building  pointed  out  to  him.  He  en- 
tered. There  were  many  officers  present,  but  Jerry 
Lamb  knew  nothing  of  their  rank  and  cared  less 
about  it.  '"I  want  the  man  who  has  charge  here  I'* 
he  exclaimed,  as  he  entered. 

A  tall,  dark,  stern  featured  officer  stood  near.  "I 
am  the  surgeon  in  charge,  sir,"  he  responded. 
"What  do  you  want?" 

"I  am  a  plain,  practical  man,  sir,"  replied  Jerry 
Lamb;  "bufi  come  looking  for  that  man,"  point- 
ing to  the  sentence  in  the  newspaper  which  we  have 
quoted.      "Tell  me  all  you  can  about  him." 

"I  know  nothing  about  him,"  replied  the  officer ; 
"If  he  is  now  living,  he  has  probably  been  carried 


266  Will  Newton^ 

by  the    Confederates  to    Virginia  ;   but    much  more 
likely  he  is  dead  and  buried    before   this  time." 

"For  whom  is  he  looking?"  questioned  a  pleasant 
looking  2:)hysician  who  stood  near. 

"For    Captain    Will     Newton    of regiment," 

quickly  answered  Mr.  Lamb. 

"I  do  not  know  where  he  is,"  said  the  other. 
"But  a  member  of  his  regiment  is  wounded  in  my 
tent.  If  you  will  go  with  me  we  will  see  if  he 
knows  anything  about  him." 

They  entered  the  great  tent  and  stood  beside  a 
sergeant  who  had  lost  one  leg,  and  had  also  re- 
ceived a  desperate  wound  in  his  breast.  "Ser- 
geant," asked  the  surgeon,  "Do  you  know  Captain 
Will  Newton  of  your  regiment?" 

"Captain  Will  Newton  !"  responded  the  soldier, 
"well,  I  should  think  so.  Ain't  I  a  sergeant  in  his 
company,  and  didn't  I  fight  by  his  side  out  in  the 
peach  orchard  there  ?  Captain  Will  Newton,  I  tell 
you,  gentlemen,  is  a  white  man.  A  perfect  tiger  in 
a  battle,  and  won't  he  be  awfully  missed  from  our 
regiment?"  And  the  poor  fellow  cried  like  a 
child. 

"What  became  of  him?"  asked  Mr.  Lamb. 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  267 

"This  gentleman,"  interrupted  the  surgeon,  "is  a 
particular  friend  of  Captain  Newton,  and  is  very 
anxious  to  learn  all  he  can  about  him  ;  but  I  fear 
that  if  you  talk  it  will  inflame  your  wounds,  and 
you  are  too  weak  to  run  such  a  risk." 

"What!  are  you  a  friend  of  Will  Newton's?" 
eagerly  asked  the  sergeant,  "Then  you  sit  down 
here  beside  my  bed  and  I  will  tell  you  all  about  it. 
Live  or   die,   if  you   know   mv  captain    I  will  talk 


any  way  I" 


Mr.  Lamb  seated  himself  beside  the  rude  bed, 
and  the  wounded  sergeant  began  :  "You  see,  old 
fellow,  how  it  was.  Dan  Sickles  was  out  there  on 
the  Emmettsburg  pike  with  the  old  third  corps,  and 
old  Longstreet  undertook  to  smash  him.  Sickles 
was  being  pushed  pretty  hard  when  they  poked  us 
fello^s's  in  to  help  him  out  of  his  scrape  and  save 
the  day.  We  got  in  the  verv  worst  place  in  the 
whole  line,  and  just  in  time  to  be  too  late.  The 
rebels  were  wading  in  big,  and  our  fellows  vv^ere 
trying  to  get  out  just  as  fast  as  they  could.  We  went 
in  w^ith  a  yell  and  tried  to  stop  the  rebels  ;  but  the 
job  was  too  big  for  us.  Our  company  was  in  the 
center  of  the  regiment,  in  a  moment  both  our  flanks 
w^ere  shot  to  pieces    and  the  center  was  badly  shat- 


268  Will  Newton^ 

tered.  It  was  an  awful  time.  My  captain,  sir, 
stood  right  out  in  front,  bare-headed  and  with  a 
revolver  in  each  hand  he  blazed  away  not  ten  feet 
from  the  Confederates.  I  stood  beside  him  until  he 
went  down.  He  put  his  hand  up  to  his  shoulder 
and  breast  and  fell  like  dead.  My  leg  went  off  at 
the  same  time.  The  rebels  ran  over  me,  but  drasr- 
ged  him  back  within  their  lines.  I  crawled  towards 
our  lines  and  got  about  half  the  way  back  when  I 
got  another  wound,  and  then  subsided  until  after  the 
battle  was  over.  I  think  that  without  doubt  the  cap- 
tain is  dead.  I  know  that  he  got  a  hard  blow  by 
the  way  he  went  down." 

Mr.  Lamb  was  very  grateful  »to  find  a  man  who 
had  stood  beside  his  friend  in  battle,  and  thanked 
him  for  all  his  information  ;  then  with  that  kindness 
for  which  he  was  distinguished,  asked,  -'Have  you 
the  means  to  purchase  all  the  delicacies  and  things 
vou  will  need  here.^" 

"I  have  no  money,  sir,"  replied  the  soldier  ;  but 
the  citizens  kindly  give  me  many  things  to  eat  so 
that  I  am  comfortable." 

"I  don't  want  any  man  who  fought  with  my  boy 
to    depend    altogether    upon   charity,"   proudly   re- 


l^he    Totuig    Vohtnteer.  .  i(y(^ 

sponded  Mr.  Lamb.  ''Here,  my  good  fellow,  take 
this,"  and  he  put  a  fifty  dollar  note  in  the  sergeant's 
hands. 

'^Well,  well,  if  I  ain't  beat !"  said  the  sergeant, 
as  Mr.  Lamb  passed  from  the  tent.  "Fifty  dollars  ! 
Twenty-five  of  that  will  be  all  I  shall  need, and  when 
he  calls  again  I  will  ask  him  if  he  is  willing  for  me 
to  send  the  other  twenty-five  to  wife  and   children." 

Mr.  Lamb  walked  across  the  fields  to  where  the 
Confederate  line  of  battle  had  been  formed.  He 
was  sad  and  depressed.  It  looked  as  if  his  errand 
was  a  fruitless  one  and  that  no  indication  of  Will 
Newton  could  be  found.  Being  weary  he  hired  a 
team  and  rode  slowly  along  the  Chambersburg  turn- 
pike. 

Before  he  was  aware  of  it  the  sun  had  nearly 
passed  from  view  behind  the  South  Mountain  hills, 
and  he  found  that  he  had  come  a  long  distance  from 
Gettysburg.  There  was  a  little  hut  standing  by  the 
roadside  nearly  concealed  from  view  by  the  dense 
foliagfe  of  surrounding:  shade  trees.  Mr.  Lamb 
spoke  to  an  aged  negro  who  was  standing  in  the 
yard  and  inquired  how  fiir  it  w^as  back  to  the  village. 

"Plump  eight  miles,  I  reckon,  sah  ;"  was  the  an- 
swer . 

18 


270  JV/ll  Newton^ 

"Did  the  Confederates  trouble  you  any  on  their 
retreat?"  asked  Mr.  Lamb. 

"Oh,  golly,  sah  !  not  in  de  least.  Spects  dey 
might  ob  done  so,  sah,  but  ole  woman  and  me  hid 
in  de  bushes." 

"Did  you  see  any  of  the  prisoners  whom  they 
had  taken  pass  this  way?" 

"Yes,  sah;  lots  ob  Massa  Linkum's  men  went 
back  lookin'  mighty  sorry,  too,  dey  was." 

"Were  any  of  the  prisoners  wounded?" 

"Wounded?  Lord  a  massa,  sah  !  guess  you  would 
tink  so  hnd  you  been  he-ah,  sah  ;  sich  groaning  and 
crying  I  neber  he'rd  in  my  life,  sah  ;  and  den  dey 
left  dead  ones  scattered  all  along  de  road,  and  for  a 
whole  day  I  worked  to  bur}^  de  poor  fellows." 

"Did  they    leave  any  of  the  wounded  who  were 
not  dead?"  asked  Mr.   Lamb,  and  to  the  surprise  of 
that   gentleman,    the  old  negro    gave    a    somewhat 
evasive  answer. 

"Why  do  you  not  give  me  a  direct  reply,  sir?" 
said  Mr.  Lamb.  '  ^ 

"Because,  sah  ;  deseam  perilous  times.  De  people 
who  live  up  between  he-ah  and  de  mountains  am 
all  Secessioners.     De  rebels  mav  be  back  he-ah  in  a 


The    Young    Volunteer,  271 

day  or  two,  and  it  am  not  sartln  whose  hands  de  ole 
woman  and  I  fall  into." 

"But  what  has  all  this  to  do  with  the  question  I 
asked  you  about  the  rebels  leaving  wounded  men 
along:  this  road?" 

*'Dat  am  de  very  secret,  sah  ;  and  if  you  swear 
never  to  go  back  on  de  ole  man  I  will  tell  you  de 
whole  story." 

"You  can  depend  on  me  to  keep  your  secret,"  re- 
plied Mr.  Lamb,  now  thoroughly  interested. 

"Sah,  you  see  de  rebels  went  back  dis  way  wid 
all  their  wounded.  When  dey  died  in  de  w^agon 
dey  would  unload  dem  and  drive  on.  It  was  about 
daylight  on  de  morning  of  de  fourth  of  July,  I  was 
peaking  out  through  de  trees  thar  to  see  what  w^as 
going  on.  A  wagon  stopt  right  he-ah.  De  driver 
w^id  a  big  oath  said  he  wouldn't  haul  dem  dead  men 
any  longer  and  he  took  out  from  de  wagon,  sah,  six 
dead  bodies.  It  made  me  groan  to  see  how  he 
tumbled  dem  down  like  ole  truck  upon  de  ground. 
Den  he  jumped  upon  the  seat  and  drove  on  like  de 
wind.  I  watched  mv  chance,  and  when  for  a  few 
minutes  dar  Avas  no  teams  passing,  I  went  out  here 
whar  de  dead  men  were.  I  found  dat  five  ob  dem 
were  rebels,  de  other  one  was  a  Linkum    sojer  in  de 


.272  Will  Newton^ 

bressed  blue  uniform.  Widout  stopping  to  think. 
I'se  took  him  up  in  these  arms  Hke  a  chile  and  toted 
him  in  to  de  house,  sah.  I'se  laid  him  on  de  floor, 
when  good  gracious,  I'se  like  to  lose  my  breff*,  cose 
he  groaned  like  as  he  wasn't  dead.  Den  I  run  for 
de  ole  woman  and  we  tuk  him  up  tender  like  and 
put  him  on  de  bed  out  ob  sight  for  fear  de  rebels 
miofht  come  and  find  him.  De  old  woman  found 
de  kam-fire,  bundles  of  }^arbs,  and  udder  things 
and  has  dosed  him  dav  and  nisfht.  But  he  am  as 
cazv  as  a  coot,  we  don't  dare  to  sav  nuffin,  or  2:0 
any  ^vhar,  tor  fear  de  rebels  and  Sessioners  will  kill 
us  all." 

The  little  hut  was  dark.  The  neo^ro  led  the  wav 
to  a  small  room  in  one  corner.  Through  the  cracks- 
there  came  a  faint  gleam  of  sunshine  that  but  dimly 
lighted  the  room.  Upon  a  low,  rude,  coarse  bed 
in  one  corner  was  the  form  of  a  man.  The  dim 
light  fell  upon  a  countenance,  pale  ;  but  at  that 
moment  flushed  bv  fever.  An  old  negfress  was 
bending  over  the  bed  bathing  the  man's  temples  and 
singing  in  a  low,  weird  tone. 

•'Ole  woman,  I'se  brought  this  gemman  to  see 
de  sojer/' 


The    You7ig    Volunteer.  273 

The  ole  woman  thus  accosted,  sprang  to  her  feet, 
as  if  to  defend  her  patient  if  it  was  necessary ;  but 
Mr.  Lamb  did  not  notice  her.  He  only  saw  the 
form  on  the  bed.  He  sank  beside  it,  and  while 
tears  of  joy  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  he  sobbed,  "Oh 
Will,  my  bo}',  my  boy,  don't  you  know  me?" 

The  poor  sufferer  turned  his  head  with  a  feeble 
motion  and  muttered,  "Who  called — Dan  Eliott? 
Bill  Logan?"  and  then  he  was  silent. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Lamb  answered,  and  began  to  plan 
w^ith  his  accustomed  eners^v.  He  turned  to  the 
astonished  negroes  and  said,  "You  watch  here  ;  take 
good  care  of  him  ;  I  will  go  for  a  surgeon  and  be 
back  soon." 

He  rushed  from  the  house,  sprang  into  his  car- 
riage and  applied  the  whip  to  the  horse  in  a  most 
vigorous  manner  he  almost  flew  over  the  road  in 
the  direction  of  Gettysburg,  and  within  thirty  min- 
utes from  the  time  he  left  the  hut  of  the  negrroes 
he  drew  up  in  front  of  the  tent  where  he  had  met 
the  sergeant  who  belonged  to  Newton's  company. 
As  he  dashed  into  the  tent,  he  cried,  "Where  is  the 
surgeon  ?" 

"Here  I  am,  sir,"  said  that  officer,  stepping  for- 
vv^ard,  "What  do  you  want?" 


274  Will  Newton^ 

"I  have  found  my  boy  alive,  and  you  must  go 
with  me  to  save  liis  life." 

"How^  far  from  here?"  questioned  the  surgeon. 

"Eight  miles." 

"I  can  be  ready  in  five  minutes;  wait  for  me 
here." 

The  disabled  sergeant  cried  with  joy  when  Mi\ 
Lamb  told  him  that  Newton  was  found.  As  Mr. 
Lamb  vv^as  waiting  for  the  surgeon,  the  veteran  told 
him  of  sickness  in  his  family  at  home  ;  of  heavy 
expenses  and  small  income  ;  of  penury  and  suffer- 
ing, and  asked  if  he  was  willing  for  him  to  send 
them  a  portion  of  the  fifty  dollars. 

"Not  a  cent  of  it,"  said  the  generous-hearted  man. 
"Keep  it  all  for  yourself;  but  send  them  this." 

A  hundred  dollar  note  fell  on  the.  soldier's   face. 
"I  only  wish  I  could  give  as  much  to  the  familj^  of 
every  soldier  who  fought  at  Gettysburg." 

Tiie  surgeon  examined  his  patient  carefully  for  a 
few  moments  ;  "a  hard  case,"  he  whispered,  "badly 
shot,  high  fever,  much  exhaustion,  chances  all 
against  him.  He  must  have  the  best  of  care.  First 
of  ail,  he  must  have  different  quarters  and  where 
there  is  light  and  ventilation.  There  is  no  way  in 
which  he  can  receive  proper  care  here.     Are  there 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  275 

any   houses  near  here?"  asked   the  surgeon  of  the 


negroes. 


"One  right  above  he-ah,  sah  ;  but  he  am  an  awful 
Secessioner,  sah." 

"Look  out  for  the  man  until  we  come  back," 
replied  the  surgeon  ;  and  motioning  for  Mr.  Lamb 
to  follow,  he  sprang  into  the  carriage  and  they  drove 
rapidly  to  the  house  referred  to  by  the  negroes.  The 
surgeon  knocked  on  the  door  with  a  loud  rap  and 
the  owner  immediately  came  to  the  door.  "I  have 
a  w^ounded  soldier  just  below  here,  sir,"  explained 
the  surgeon;  "He  is  not  strong  enough  to  be  re- 
moved to  Gettvsbursf.  I  want  a  bed  and  room  in 
your  house  for  him." 

"My  house  is  not  a  government  hospital,  sir," 
coldly  replied  the  owner,  as  he  was  about  to  close 
the  door  upon  them  ;  but  the  surgeon  was  too  quick 
for  him,  and  springing  inside  the  door  he  greeted 
the  astonished  proprietor  as  follows  :  "I  am  a  sur- 
geon in  the  United  States  service.  I  have  full 
authority  and  power  to  act  in  these  matters.  I  must 
have  the  best  room  in  this  house.  If  you  keep  still 
and  do  all  vou  can  to  aid  us  it  will  be  all  rig-ht ;  if 
you  cause    us  any  more  trouble  1    shall  send   you 


t 

276  Wi7l  Newton, 

under  guard  to  Washington  as  an  active  sympathizer 
with  the  rebels." 

From  that  moment  the  owner  of  the  house  caused 
them  no  more  trouble.  In  the  parlor  a  nice  easy 
cot  was  arranged,  and  then  the  surgeon  told  the 
owner  of  the  house  and  his  son  to  follow  himself 
and  Mr.  Lamb.  They  went  to  the  negroes'  hut. 
and  using  the  old  blankets  on  which  Will  Newton 
was  lying  as  a  stretcher,  they  bore  him  tenderly  to 
the  place  prepared  for  him.  The  aged  colored 
people  held  up  their  hands  in  mingled  surprise  and 
fear  as  they  saw  the  old  Secessionist  and  his  son 
within  their  humble  abode. 

Ever}^  thing  possible  was  done  to  alleviate  the  suf- 
ferings of  Will  Newton.  For  three  days  and  nights 
both  the  surgeon  and  Mr.  Lamb  remained  at  his 
bedside.  He  was  delirious  all  the  time.  It  nearly 
broke  Mr.  Lamb's  heart  to  hear  him  talk.  On  the  ^ 
third  night  the  crisis  was  passed  ;  and  just  as  the  sun 
was  appearing  in  the  east  the  patient  awoke  from 
a  lonof  slumber.  The  suro^eon  saw  that  he  w^as 
rational.  He  whispered  to  Mr.  Lamb,  ''Go  out  as 
easily  as  you  can  ;  he  will  live^ 

Mr.  Lamb   obeyed,  but  he  was   completely  over- 
come by  the  intelligence,  and  weeping  like  a  child 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  277 

he  walked  clown  the  road  and  entered  the  negroes' 
home.  They  saw,  but  misunderstood  his  sorrow. 
The  old  man  exclaimed,  "De  Lord  be  merciful  I 
Is  de  boy  dead  ?" 

"Oh  no,"  sobbed  Mr.  Lamb,  "He  is  better,  he 
will  live." 

"De  Lord  be  praised,  sure  !"  ejaculated  the  old 
lady. 

"And  it  is  all  due  to  you  my  friends,"  continued 
Mr. Lamb  ;  "and  now  I  want  to  reward  you  for  your 
kindness." 

"Not  a  cent,  sah  ;  not  a  cent,  sah  !  we'se  rich  now 
sah  !  we'se  rich  !  de  bressed  Lord  am  w4th  us,  we'se 
rich  !" 

"Do  you  own  this  place?'"  asked  Mr.  Lamb  look- 
ing around  the  cabin. 

"No,  sah  ;  we'se  must  leabhe-ah  dis  fall,  sah." 

"Well,  where  will  you  go.^"  asked  the  other. 
*      "Don't  know,    sah.     Childer  all   dead;    we'se    no 
money  only  what  I  earn  ;  but  de  Lord  alius  provides 
for  de  old  chileless  man  and  woman.     No  fear,  sah, 
we'se  rich  !" 

"But,"  continued  the  practical  business  man,  "do 
you  not  know  of  sonfe    colored  family  where  you 


278  Will  Newton, 

could  have  a  home  and  board  with  them  if  you  only 
had  the  money  to  pay  for  your  board  each  week  ?'* 

"Laws,  honey,  dar  is  my  neice  down  in  Gettys- 
burg ;  reckon  she  would  be  powerful  glad  to  have 
us  under  sich  sarcumstances  ;  but  her  Jake  am  dead, 
and  she  has  four  little  pick-a-ninnies  to  look  out  for," 
said  the  old  lady. 

"Well,  now,"  replied  Mr.  Lamb,  "you  go  and 
see  her  ;  find  out  what  it  ^vill  cost  a  week  to  board 
you  both  and  come  back  and  let  me  know." 

The  next  day  Mr.  Lamb  called  again  to  see  his 
old  colored  friends. 

"I'se  been  down  thar,  sah,"  exclaimed  the 
negress  ;  "Sally  was  powerful  glad  to  see  me.  I'se 
talked  with  her  about  de  bo'ad,  sah.  She  w^ould  be 
willin  to  bo'ad  ole  man  and  me  if  we  could  only  pay 
her ;  but  Sally  is  powerful  poor,  sah." 

"What  would  she  ask  a  week.-^"  inquired  Mr. 
Lamb. 

"Wall,  sah  ;  she  put  on  a  big  price,  Sally  did. 
She  would  give  the  old  man  and  me  the  spare  room, 
give  us  our  tobaccy  and  tea  on  de  Sundays,  fo-ah 
one  dollar  a  week." 

"Not  a  great  price  either,"  ^laughed  Mr.  Lamb, 
"And  now   you  pack   your  things    and  move  right 


The    Toung    V^olunteer.  279 

down  to  Sally's,  and  when  I  go  to  Gettysburg  in  a 
day  or  two  I  will  arrange  with  the  town  authorities 
there  to  pay  you  two  dollars  a  week  as  long  as  you 
live.     That  will  pay  for  your  board  and  clothes." 

*'De  Lord  be  praised!"  fervently   interrupted  the 
old  man. 

As  soon  as  the  crisis  in  Will  Newton's  case  was 
passed,  Mr.  Lamb  sent  the  following  telegram  to 
his  family  : 

"I  have  found  him  ;'  he  will  live." 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

Several  days  elapsed  after  Will  Newton  had  passed 
the  critical  point  in  his  case  before  the  surgeon 
thought  it  advisable  for  Mr.  Lamb  to  make  himself 
knov^^n,  so  he  was  never  present  in  the  sick  room 
when  the  patient  was  awake.  It  had  been  arranged 
that  the  surgeon  should  w^atch  beside  him  at  such 
times,  and  w^hen  he  was  asleep,  Mr.  Lamb  was  a 
constant  attendant.  One  afternoon  while  his  old 
friend  was  thus  occupied,  being  very  weary  with 
long  and  anxious  ^vatching,  he  fell  asleep.  When 
he  awoke  he  found  that  his  patient  was  also  awake, 
and  looking  upon  him  in  amazement  w4th  eyes  wide 
open.     "Mr.  Lamb  !"  faintly  murmured  Newton. 

"My  dear  boy  !"  responded  the  other. 

It  would  be  useless  for  us  to  undertake  to  de- 
scribe the  scene  that  followed  ;  but  from  that  day 
Will  Newton  rapidly  recovered.  During  the  four 
weeks  that  elapsed  after  the  event  narrated  above, 
and  before  Newton  was  able  to  be  removed  from 
the  house,  there  were  so  many  questions  for  him  to 
to  ask  and  so  much  information  for  his  friend  to 
communicate,  that  the  days  passed  away  very  pleas- 
antly to  both. 


The    7'oung    Volunteer.  28^1 

They  had  not  forgotten  their  old  friends  and 
benefactors,  the  colored  people,  and  true  to  his 
promise,  Mr.  Lamb  made  all  the  necessary  arrange- 
ments with  a  banker  in  Gettysburg  to  pay  the  aged 
couple  one  hundred  dollars  a  year  as  long  as  they 
lived.  On  the  day  before  they  were  to  leave  the 
village  Mr.  Lamb  and  Will  Xewton  rode  out  to  call 
upon  them.  The  manner  in  which  they  were  re- 
ceived and  entertained  was  unique  and  ludicrous  in 
the  extreme.  The  inmates  of  "Sallv's"  house  saw 
them  coming  and  all  filed  out  to  meet  them.  The 
old  man  led  the  procession  closely  followed  by  his 
companion  whose  head  was  crowned  with  a  huge 
bright  red  turban.  Then  came  Sally  and  her  chil- 
dren, all  as  fat  and  as  black  as  the  pigs  in  her  little 
back  yard. 

'^Bress  de  Lord  !  Bress  de  Lord  I"  fervently  ejac- 
ulated the  old  man,  as  his  visitors  alig4ited  from 
their  carriage  ;  and  the  aged  negress  held  up  her 
hands  in  amazement,  exclaiming,  "'Pears  like  de 
honey  come  back  from  de  dead!  De  good  Lord 
have  mercy." 

They  all  entered  the  little  cottage.  It  was  plain 
but  neat  and  comfortable,  and  it  was  evident  to  the 
visitors  that  Sally  was  a    model  housekeeper.     At 


283  Will  Newt 071^ 

Will  Newton's  request,  Mr.  Lamb  carried  a  large, 
mysterious  looking  bundle  from  the  carriage  into 
the  house.  Will  quickly  opened  it  and  began  to 
pull  forth  packages  which  he  had  purchased  and 
brought  as  presents  to  his  old  friends.  Dry  goods 
and  groceries, — almost  enough  to  stock  a  small 
store. 

''Here  uncle  and  auntie,"  gleefully  called  New- 
ton, "these  things  are  all  for  you,"  and  the  old 
couple  laughed,  wept,  shouted  and  prayed  all  at  the 
same  time.  While  Will  was  distributing  his  gifts 
and  explaining  to  them  how  they  could  draw  their 
money  from  the  bank  each  week,  Mr.  Lamb  was 
interviewing  Sally  and  informing  her  that  if  the  old 
people  should  be  sick  and  in  distress,  she  was  to 
notify  the  banker  who  would  write  Mr.  Lamb,  and 
that  the  latter  gentleman  would  supply  all  their 
wants.  Sally  on  her  part  assured  him  "dat  de  ole 
folks  should  be  well  tended." 

The  parting  scene  was  quite  an  affecting  one,  for 
Newton  deeply  realized  the  great  obligation  which 
he  was  under  to  the  ignorant  but  kind-hearted  ne- 
groes who  had  providentially  been  so  situated  as  to 
save  his  life.  He  gave  each  of  them  a  small  sum  of 
money  and  Sally  was  also  remembered  quite  gener- 


The    Toung    Volunteer.  283 

oiisly  in  the  same  maimer,  and  amidst  the  tears, 
prayers  and  thanks  of  the  negroes,  the  two  gentle- 
men rode  away. 

The  arrangements  were  all  perfected  and  on  the 
early  train  Mr.  Lamb  and  Newton  were  to  leave 
Gettysburg  for  home. 

There  was  great  excitement  in  Maplewood.  Such 
a  day  had  never  been  known  before  in  the  history 
of  the  town.  All  classes  of  citizens  were  interested. 
Every  home  was  in  a  state  of  commotion  and  every 
individual  w^as  upon  the  streets.  A  stranger  would 
have  supposed  that  some  strange  resurrection  of  life 
and  business  had  taken  place  during  the  night.  The 
occasion  of  it  all  was,  that  Mr.  Lamb  and  Will 
Newton  were  expected  to  arrive  on  the  noon  train, 
and  the  people  had  come  forth  from  their  homes  to 
welcome  back  from  the  war  their  first  volunteer. 
The  old  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  all  at  the  depot, 
prominent  among  whom  was  the  good  old  parson 
and  angular  Deacon  Keene.  The  middle-ao-ed  men 
and  women  had  also  left  their  work  and  were  pres- 
ent in  full  force  to  honor  the  great  event  by  their 
presence,  while  the  boys  and  girls  were  determined 
to  out-do  all  others  in  giving  character  and  interest 
to  the  scene.       A  large  arch   had   been    erected  in 


284  Wz'll  Newton. 

front  of  the  little  depot,  and  on  it  nestling  amid  flow- 
ers and  flags,  was  the  one  word  ''welcome."  Beau- 
tiful bouquets  had  been  prepared  by  the  dozens,, 
and  as  a  leading  feature  of  the  whole  aff'air,  the  two 
Lamb  boys,  in  imitation  of  their  father's  public 
spirit,  had  induced    the   village   postmaster  to  send 

down  to    the    city  of  D ,  the  day    before,    and 

have  three  soldiers  come  up  with  a  small  cannon  to 
fire  a  salute  on  the  arrival  of  the  train.  The  whole 
crowd  was  on  the  very  "tiptoe"  of  excitement. 

"There  it  comes  I  there  it  comes  !"  cried  a  score 
of  small  boys  as  the  sound  of  a  distant  whistle  was 
heard.  In  a  few  moments,  which  to  the  waiting 
crowd  seemed  a  much  longer  time,  the  train  rolled 
into  the  depot.  There  was  a  moment  of  breathless- 
suspense  on  the  part  of  the  assembled  hundreds. 
Soon  the  portly  form  and  cheerful  face  of  Mr.  Lamb 
appeared  upon  the  platform  of  the  car,  and  upon 
his  arm  leaned  a  thin,  pale,  emaciated  soldier. 
Scores  of  beautiful  bouquets  were  showered  upon 
him,  while  the  cheers  of  the  people  and  the  thunder 
of  the  cannon  announced  that  Will  Newton,  the 
Young  Volunteer,  had  returned  to  Maplewood^ 


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